Hit Me, If You Dare
by PartyInTheNorth
Summary: Modern AU. Gendry is a waiter, Arya is a fist-fighting wild child. Their accelerated friendship seems to be going somewhere, but will it leave scars on hearts or faces?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

4:58

4:59

5:00

'Yoren, I'm off!' called Gendry to the head chef, ripping off his apron and pushing through to the little locker room.

'Hey, can't you wait a minute?' replied the older man angrily, 'At least until Hot Pie gets here?'

'Nope!' said Gendry, 'I… I've got a doctor's appointment!'

It was a lie, but it bought him a few seconds to grab his jacket and dash out of the shabby little diner.

Gendry hated waiting tables at The Wall, but it was what he had to do to pay the rent. He was a terrible waiter, clumsy and forgetful, and he was only really there because Hot Pie recommended him. Hot Pie was a passionate, brilliant chef, and the main reason why The Wall went from a grotty, greasy diner in the day, to the most popular quirky little restaurant in Westeros. He also happened to be Gendry's best friend.

As he unchained his bike in the car park outside The Wall, Gendry heard his name being called from behind him.

'Gendry! Hey, Gendry!'

He turned towards a pale, dark-haired young man in a black hoodie, waving at him from the side of a very shiny new Mercedes. Gendry squinted- he really should wear his glasses rather than always leaving them at home- to see his school friend Jon Snow, a nice but angsty orphan who lived with his uncle and aunt out in the countryside in an amazing mansion called Winterfell.

'Hey, Jon!' he called, wheeling his bike over, 'How are you?'

'I'm great thanks,' Jon replied, then glanced at his watch. He bit his lip and looked quizzically at Gendry, 'Sorry, but I promised my cousin I'd be at the gym five minutes ago, fancy coming for a catch-up?'

Gendry paused for only a moment. Although he'd come up with an excuse for Yoren, he really didn't have anything better to do that evening, so he nodded. 'Sure. Can I put my bike in the back?'

…

Arya threw a flurry of blows at the punchbag and then dropped back to look at the clock. It was ten past five, and Jon had promised to be there by five. She punched the bag again, letting out a throaty groan of anger as she did so.

'Everything alright, Cat?' asked Jaquen, her coach. He was wrapping his hands nearby and smirking at her. He always had a smirk on his face. It annoyed her intensely, because she knew- she just knew- he was laughing at her for being so little and weak.

He had also nicknamed her Cat, because he said she was all claws, and accused her of purring when she spoke. Arya thought Jaquen was much more of a purrer than her, always speaking in a deliciously sexy, deep voice that sang of undercurrents.

'I'm fine,' she said, storming away to a bench, where she sat to take off her gloves. Jaquen came and sat next to her, and she turned her body away from him, annoyed.

'You know, a girl could do with making some friends,' he said.

'I don't need friends,' she answered, not looking at him.

'Cat, you've been here six hours every day for the past two weeks,' he pointed out, not unkindly, 'It's your summer holidays, don't you think you should- I dunno, go shopping or to the beach or something?'

'Shopping's boring. The beach is too far away.'

'Don't you have any friends from school, Cat?' he asked. Arya knew Jaquen was only looking out for her, but she really didn't need to be reminded how lonely and anti-social she was.

'Leave me alone, Jaquen!' she shouted. She was about to attack him as he had attacked her, but a hand fell on Jaquen's shoulder instead, and she looked up at Jon Snow.

'Is this guy bothering you, Arya?' he asked, coldly. She stood up, seizing her gloves.

'No, it's fine,' she said, 'Let's go, Jon.'

She marched away to the exercise bikes, and Jon followed her, sending one last dirty look at Jaquen.

'Don't you want to box?' asked Jon, and Arya shook her head. She reached up and pulled her hair bobble out, letting her wavy brown hair fall down across her shoulders.

'No, I fancy a swim, you coming?' she said, tipping her head to one side. It was only then that she noticed the strapping man beside Jon. 'Oh, hey. Who's this?'

'Gendry,' he spat out, feeling a bit dazed by this wild, gorgeous girl. 'Gendry Waters.'

He stuck his hand out and she shook it firmly.

'Yeah, this is my friend Gendry,' said Jon, 'We went to school together.' He turned to his Gendry 'And this is my cousin, Arya Stark. Sorry, she's a little bit mental.'

She shoved him for that, but she was smiling.

'Anyway, are you coming to the pool or not?' she asked.

Jon looked at Gendry and shrugged. 'I haven't got my trunks.'

'Get some from the shop downstairs,' she said, and walked away to the ladies' changing room.

…

Money was clearly no object for the Starks. Gendry had picked out a pair of hideous red floral trunks- too big for him- from the sale bucket in the shop, but Jon had a streamlined designer pair, and now, as the pair of them walked through to the pool to meet Arya, Gendry felt very exposed.

Arya was doing lengths, and it took her a little while to spot the pair of them, but when she did she swam over to the edge and clambered out. Gendry tried desperately hard to keep his eyes on her face, but it was too difficult. She was lean and well-muscled, with creamy white skin and black-painted toenails. Her breasts were small and pert, and she had on an speedo swimming costume with cut out panels in the side, giving glimpses of her bare belly. He longed to press his warm hands to that shivering, wet flesh, make red patchy marks on her pale skin…

'Gendry?' she was asking, smirking, 'I asked if you'd been to Hawaii recently?'

He was confused for a second and then remembered his shorts. She was smiling cynically.

'Yeah, very funny,' he said, rolling his eyes.

'I know I am,' she replied, raising her eyebrows quickly and playfully.

Jon took Gendry's towel and wandered off to put them down on a sunbed, and Gendry moved closer to the edge of the pool and peered in, unable to look at Arya.

'Is it cold?' he asked her.

'Yep,' she answered, and pushed him in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dinner at the Starks' and chaperoning Arya Stark? Sounds like a regular night out for Gendry Waters.**

Gendry held his knife and fork the wrong way round and struggled desperately to cut up his steak. How had he gotten here?

Less than three weeks after meeting Jon again, he had gone from his normal reconstituted burger and chips with a diet coke in The Wall, to this exquisite steak that must have cost £30, with trimmings that he couldn't even name, let alone imagine how they were made, in a dining room with three crystal chandeliers and a mahogany sideboard. The Stark family were dressed casually though, and it seemed weird to him that these people could be so at home in a room that felt like Buckingham Palace.

Gendry was uncomfortable, anyway. He was sat between Jon and Arya, and he had hardly said a word except when directly spoken to all evening. He felt a little intimidated by all the people around the table: the rugged Ned and regal Catelyn; handsome Robb and elegant Sansa; cheerful Jon, charming Bran and adorable Rickon. And of course, there was Arya. She was bright as a pin, and always laughing, and so at ease with her family that it made Gendry's heart hurt to watch. They all loved each other, and they all knew that they could rely on each other's love.

Gendry had never had that. He had lived alone since his mother died, four years ago, and he had always been struggling to survive. This amount of wealth and happiness made him feel queasy.

'What do you do for a living, Gendry?' asked Robb from across the table.

'I'm a waiter, sir,' he replied nervously.

Arya burst out laughing. 'You are too cute! He's only Robb, you needn't call him sir, Stupid!'

'Arya, don't be rude!' reprimanded Catelyn.

'I wasn't being rude, I was just trying to make Gendry feel at ease!' her daughter shot back.

'You called him stupid, Arya!' pointed out Catelyn, sounding furious.

'It's fine,' said Gendry, trying to diffuse the situation, 'I am stupid.'

Jon laughed good-naturedly, and Catelyn calmed down.

…

At the end of the meal, Ned asked how he was getting home.

'I'll walk, sir, it's not too far,' Gendry answered, still a little nervous of the gruff patriarch.

'No, no, Jon will drive you!' protested Ned.

'I can't, I've had two glasses of wine,' said Jon, sounding sorry.

'Honestly, it's fine-'

'I'll drive you,' cut in Arya, standing up and grabbing her plate. She stacked Gendry's under hers and put them both on top of Jon's. 'Come on, let's go.'

She clasped her hand on his shoulder and pulled him to his feet, so roughly that the chair nearly fell on the floor.

'Thank you for dinner, Mr and Mrs Stark,' said Gendry apologetically as he was half-dragged out of the room by Arya, 'Nice to meet you all!'

Outside, he nearly had to run to keep up with Arya as she got into her car. He bundled himself into the passenger seat and had only just got the door shut when she sped away.

'Why are you in such a hurry? Am I that awful?' he asked, smirking, a little worried that this girl was mental.

She laughed, a breathy, heart-felt laugh, and said, 'It's not you, stupid, I'm sneaking out to a bar after I've dropped you off.'

'What? But you're like, what, seventeen?' protested Gendry.

'Yeah, but I have a fake ID,' she said, pouting sidelong at him.

'Uh-uh, I am not letting you go off to a bar all on your own,' he said, shaking his head, 'You're Jon's little sister, I can't let you go get pissed!'

'Don't you dare tell him!' she yelled, pulling over onto the hard shoulder and rounding on him, a hand pressing hard into his chest.

'I won't tell him but I'll come with you,' he bargained, not wanting to disappoint her. Besides, he hadn't had a night out in so long- he spent all his nights either working or relaxing at The Wall.

She pouted a little, searching his eyes. 'Fine. Deal.'

…

They arrived at a nice bar in the city centre called King's Landing. Gendry hadn't been before but it looked alright so he begrudgingly held the door open for Arya.

She went straight over to the bar but Gendry put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. 'I'll buy the drinks,' he said, 'That way it's mainly legal.'

She downed her drink faster than Gendry could believe, and then when she caught his incredulous look, she flipped him her middle finger and walked away. Gendry stayed there, leaning against the bar, and watched her mince nonchalantly up to a group of guys much older than her. She chatted a little while, flipping her hair, and let one of them buy her a drink, which she sipped a lot slower than her first.

After a little while, Gendry glanced back over to where Arya had been, but she wasn't there. Alarmed, he looked around the club, certain that she had been murdered and it was all his fault.

He calmed when he saw her dancing in the middle of the room, arms all over the guy who had bought her a drink, but Gendry got angrier and angrier as he saw where the guy's hands were roaming. Didn't he see how young she was? Didn't he realise she was drunk and young? She might regret it in the morning, letting some random stranger's hands grab her breasts and her bum.

He couldn't take it any longer, and Gendry went over to them, grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

'Come on, sis, we've got to get home,' he shouted over the music, and Arya shot him a violent look. 'Mum's expecting us.'

Arya rounded on him with an evil look in her eye. 'Piss off, Gendry, I'm dancing!'

'Yeah, with a guy who's way too old for you!' he retorted.

'He's like, your age!' she pointed out.

'Yeah, too old for you!'

He couldn't be sure due to the loud music, but Gendry thought she might have growled at him.

…

Outside, they got back into the car, but Gendry refused to let her drive.

'You're drunk,' he pointed out.

'I'm fine.'

'You're not,' he said as she yawned widely, 'And I'm driving.'

'Okay,' she murmured, sounding exhausted.

He set off for Winterfell, driving slowly. He had only had a half pint of beer two hours earlier, but he was careful anyway.

'Gendry?' Arya piped up. He'd thought she was asleep.

'What?'

'Why did you say I was your sister in there?'

He half-turned his head. She was curled up in her seat, knees tucked up to her chest, and her eyes were fixed on his face, swimming in an unreadable expression.

'That guy was feeling you up,' he explained.

'But I'm not your sister,' she said, sounding indignant.

'No, I'm too bloody poor and lowly to be kin to m'lady high,' he grumbled.

'What do you mean by that?' she said, louder, angrier. On glancing across to the passenger seat, Gendry saw that she was sitting up straight.

'Nothing, m'lady,' he said, sarcastically. She was a little princess, and Gendry was too tired to argue with her.

They pulled up on her drive, and both got out of the car.

'Don't call me m'lady,' she hissed.

'As m'lady commands,' he answered.

She shoved him over, and seized her keys out of his hand.

'Guess you'd better start walking home, stupid,' she said, and blew him a kiss as she slammed the door.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are very welcome, and thanks so much for the positive response to chapter one, even though it was a bit dull as I was just trying to establish the setting. This one was more fun to write, so I hope it was more fun to read! **

**Oh and also, I live in England. Consent age is 16, driving age is 17, drinking age is 18, just for a bit of context. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A chance encounter leads to some very inappropriate boxing. Because who doesn't love some Gendry and Arya wrestling?**

It was Saturday lunchtime, a busy time at The Wall as Hot Pie cooked and there were large groups of people there for a catch-up. Gendry had an hour left before his shift ended, and was pretty tired, but he still nearly jumped out of his skin when he came out of the kitchen to see Arya sat in the booth in the corner.

'I'll take 13,' he told Jeyne, the other waitress, and whipped out his notepad as he walked over.

She was with another girl, blonde and fairly pretty, and a boy who sat close to Arya. Gendry felt a ridiculous surge of anger as the boy leant across her to reach a menu.

'Gendry! Hey!' called Arya as he neared them. He didn't know what made him do it, but he pretended not to have seen her.

'Oh, hey, Arya! What are you doing here?' he said, trying to sound surprised.

'Just having lunch with some friends,' she explained. She pointed at each of them in turn, 'This is Myrcella and Edric, and guys, this is Gendry, Jon's friend.'

Gendry felt a pang of jealousy that she didn't call him her friend, but shook it off quickly.

'Nice to meet you,' he nodded, 'What can I get you guys?'

…

They had eaten a three course lunch, and Arya had shoveled more food into her skinny frame than he had thought possible, but now he was taking out their bill.

To be honest, he would be pleased to see them go. He felt a stupid jealousy when he saw her laughing with her friends, and it made him annoyed. What was he to Arya Stark? He hadn't seen her for a fortnight, and even then- what? He was her cousin's friend, who went to the gym with her once, and then acted like an overbearing Victorian maiden aunt, embarrassing her in a bar.

When he came over with their bill, Arya put her hand on his to still it.

'What time do you get off?' she asked, meeting his eyes with her stormy grey ones.

'Ten minutes, why?' he replied. Surely she didn't want to…

'Come to the gym with me?' she asked, head cocked to one side.

'Umm… Okay, sure,' he consented.

'I'll wait out the front,' she said, and picked up her coat, 'Keep the change.'

He changed quickly and stopped in front of the locker room mirror to check his hair before he left, prompting Hot Pie, who was taking a break in there, to laugh hysterically at him.

'Where are you going?' he asked, once he'd caught his breath.

'To the gym,' he said, and he could feel Hot Pie's disbelief. He was overreacting, he knew, but for some reason he liked spending time with Arya, and he was unwilling to do anything that would stop her from wanting to spend time with him again.

Outside, Arya was leaning against the wall, one knee bent up.

'Did your friends leave?' Gendry asked, making her jump a little.

'Oh, they're not my friends,' she said, sighing, 'They only brought me along so they could pretend they're not in love with each other.'

Gendry laughed, but he secretly thought that was quite sad. Jon had expressed his worries about his little sister's lack of friends before, and Gendry knew from him that she rarely went out with her friends. He wondered if she could come to count him as a friend.

…

Arya stared at herself in the changing room mirror for a lot longer than she meant to. She looked so young and little in her boxing gear, and she hated looking so… weak. She was wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a crop-top, and her pale white flesh was all on show. She plaited her hair half-heartedly, messily, and then surveyed her blotchy, too-round face. She wasn't the effortlessly pretty girls she always saw on the exercise bikes, or lying by the pool in their skimpy bikinis, just there to flirt and maintain their flat bellies.

Boxing was all Arya had. It was her passion, her love and her life. When she was boxing, she could let the wolf inside her out. She always had a wolf inside: growling and clawing to get out and stop being trapped and lonely in her sad little life. She had no friends apart from Jaquen, no other hobbies- and, most of the time, nowhere else to go. Her family were all at home or work being affluent and flawless, and Arya just didn't fit in to their happy picture of life.

How could she explain that she didn't want to go to university and read history, or marry some family friend and live happily ever after in a mansion, not even having to cook or clean because her husband would pay for a 'Woman Who Does' to do it for her?

Her phone bleeped, and she turned to pick it up.

It was a text from Gendry, asking if she was ok. She had forgotten about him. He must be waiting awkwardly outside the women's changing rooms, not sure whether she had left without him, or why she would have gone. She almost laughed at the adorable image of him lurking there, his heart leaping every time someone opened the door and wasn't her.

She locked her bag away and went to join him, an apologetic smile on her face.

They warmed up together, and then she started on a punch-bag, until her muscles felt hot and powerful. She was ready.

'Fight me?' she purred to Gendry, nodding to the ring nearby.

Gendry stared at her incredulously, and it took a while for the fact that she was serious to sink in.

'I… I can't, Arya,' he protested, 'You're a girl!'

Arya's face darkened.

'But if I was a guy, would you?' she asked.

'Umm, yeah, sure.' he spat out, very nervous.

Arya smiled devilishly, and walked over to a bench by the wall, where a scrawny, red-haired man was sitting.

'Jaquen, will you let me fight Gendry here?' she asked, briefly glancing up to check that Gendry had followed her over.

Jaquen sucked his lip for a moment. 'Ok, but wear all the gear, yeah?'

They did, and got up into the ring. Gendry sidestepped her, not wanting to hit her at all, but Arya threw in the first punch and then she was going for it, battering him so hard that he had to react, he had to punch her back.

She grunted at one of his punches and he dropped back, afraid he had hurt her. He noticed in his periphery that quite a large crowd of people had gathered round the ring to watch, impressed, he supposed, that such a little wraith of a girl was brave enough to take on a beefy big guy.

He had stopped, but Arya clearly wasn't ready to. The fire was in her eyes and she panted heavily.

'Come on, hit me,' she yelled, 'Hit me, if you dare!'

Gendry didn't dare. He didn't want to hurt her, and he didn't have the guts to hit a girl in front of all these people.

She took the advantage now. She leapt forward to throw a punch at him, thrusting all her weight into his chest, and the force knocked them both to the floor, her knee digging into his thigh and her hands battering his chest. Her face hovered inches from his, and he could feel her heavy breath on his cheeks.

'Why won't you hit me?' she yelled, 'I'm not a little girl!'

She hit him repeatedly in the chest, not too hard, but hard enough to hurt a little. Gendry just lay still until she tired, and then gently rolled her off and climbed out of the ring.

'This was a stupid idea,' he said, and went to get changed.

**Author's Note: Hmm I'm not entirely happy with this but I just love anything involving Arya and Gendry and fighting. It's too cute, right? I also apologise for the fact that I know absolutely nothing about boxing because sport really isn't my thing.**

**We're now up to date on this fic on here, so it will be progressing at the same rate as on tumblr, which is a chapter every other day- so keep checking back!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another (every other) day, another chapter. I apologise that this is later than it was up on tumblr but I'm new to this site and if anyone knows a way to automatically publish at a certain time, please let me know! This time, Gendry gets a rude awakening and there's a cute day in for all involved. **

The hammering on the door woke him up. Gendry glanced at his clock. It was eight am. He didn't normally get up until at least 1pm when he had worked the night before, and so dragging himself out of bed wasn't something that made him happy.

'What?' he groaned, opening the door. Before he knew what was going on, rough hands were shoving him into his kitchen, and onto the sofa.

'Arya, what the hell are you doing?' he shouted, even angrier now than he had been when he woke up. She sat on the barstool opposite him and crossed her legs. She was wearing a lacy black t-shirt and tiny denim shorts- but wait, why did that have his attention? He was supposed to be annoyed at her.

'I want to know why you wouldn't fight me,' she declared, swinging from side to side slightly on the barstool, pushing off the counter with her hands behind her back.

'Why I wouldn't- What?' he stammered, 'You broke in here at the crack of dawn to ask me that? How did you get here anyway? How do you know where I live?'

'Your friend Hot Pie told me,' she grinned, 'And what do you mean "the crack of dawn"? It's eight o'clock!'

'I'm not a morning person,' he mumbled, standing up to get a glass of water. She watched him silently, and Gendry was suddenly very aware of his threadbare jogging bottoms and bare chest.

'Aren't you going to offer me a drink?' she asked in a light voice.

She had turned around on her barstool and was watching him scrutinizingly. He stayed facing her and took a long gulp of his water, meeting her gaze straight on all the time.

'Nope,' he said, trying not to laugh.

She pouted, and came straight over to him. She clasped her hand around his glass and pulled it away, Gendry's hand going slack with surprise, and then took a long glug from his water.

Gendry coughed, trying to get past the lump in his throat- and trying not to think about the feelings in his groin.

'Why are you here?' he spat out, pushing past her to sit on the sofa again.

'Like I said, I want to know why you wouldn't hit me,' she said, coming to sit down beside him. He turned to look at her.

'Because...' he sighed heavily, 'Because you're only little, and you're just a...'

'Don't say girl,' she warned.

'-Girl,' he finished, and winced as she slapped his cheek.

'It's true, though! You are a gi-' He didn't finish his argument as she slapped him again.

'Will you please stop hitting me!'

'Nope,' she said, smiling cheekily.

'I usually wait a few months of friendship before I start abusing my friends,' he said, trying not to let too much niceness into his voice.

'Yeah, well,' she shrugged, and looked away from him, 'I like you a lot.'

...

Gendry was blushing, and Arya wasn't sure whether to laugh or cuddle him. Cuddling, she thought, probably wouldn't go down so well. He was already looking really creeped out by her sudden early-morning appearance at his flat, so she thought she'd leave him be for a while.

'So what do you want to do?' she said, inviting herself to stay.

'Sleep,' answered Gendry, looking annoyed.

Arya bit her lip, slightly embarrassed now. She was an irritating teenager pushing into the life of a 22-year-old guy who'd probably been out partying last night, and maybe even had pulled and brought a woman back to his apartment. He didn't want to be spending time with an overbearing little girl.

'Sorry,' she said meekly, 'I didn't have anywhere else to go.'

Gendry turned his head to look at her, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

'Is something wrong at home?' he asked.

'No,' she said, 'Just... The Baratheons are over and they all hate me.'

Gendry smiled sympathetically.

'And you don't have any other friends who wouldn't kill you for waking them up this early?'

'I don't have any other friends,' she mumbled.

Gendry stilled for a moment. She hoped he wouldn't throw her out. She hadn't said it to make him feel sorry for her. It had just slipped out. Arya didn't have any other friends, that much was true, and she was so used to being a sarcastic bitch that she had no filter on her self-deprecating bitter lines.

'What do you want to do?' he asked, a little more softly.

Arya swallowed a smile. His acceptance might have been out of pity, but it made her happy nonetheless.

'Got any good games?' she asked.

'I don't have a playstation,' he said, 'Didn't quite fit in to the waiter's salary.'

She half-smiled.

'Got a pack of cards?' she asked.

He did, and she played patience whilst Gendry showered and changed. When he came back, scruffy black hair flopping, wet, over his eyes, in a Star Wars T-shirt and jeans, he sat down closer to her than before.

'Poker?' she suggested.

'Ok,' he said, nodding.

She dealt out the cards, and then backed away from him, saying, 'Watch it, spy!'

Once he had lost twenty pence and a bag of revels to her, they gave up.

'I can't keep up this gambling habit!' he said, laughing, 'It'll ruin me!'

'Maybe if you weren't so useless, you'd enjoy it more,' she said.

'Come on, let's watch a film,' he said, shifting the coins and the bag of sweets across the table to her.

'What've you got?' she asked, standing to peruse his dvd shelf.

She could feel his gaze on her back, but she tried to ignore it. This wasn't normal Arya Stark behaviour! She was a wolf, impervious to human emotions. She was a sarcastic bitch and that was the secret to her success. You couldn't let them get to you. Gendry wandered closer to look at the shelf over her shoulder, and she was hyper-aware of his proximity. He was only a guy, just her friend- Jon's friend- just a nice guy.

'How about...' he said, his breath tickling her hair, 'Lord of the Rings?'

'Ok,' she answered, in a voice that was only slightly breathier than normal.

'Which one?'

'Fellowship, of course,' she said, the humour back into her voice.

They watched it not in silence, but with a running commentary of witty sarcasm and melodramatic reactions. And some minor food fights with the revels she begrudgingly decided to share.

When Boromir breathed his last, Arya cried (as she always did) lightly. Although she tried to keep it quiet, Gendry heard her whimpering, and looked at her. He laughed at her a little, but he stretched out his arm around her shoulder, and held her against his side for the rest of the film.

As the last few scenes played out, Arya felt an unfamiliar warmth in her gut.

It took her a minute to recognise it, because she wasn't used to feeling it away from Jon or her father, as happiness.

**A/N: I loved writing this scene even more than the boxing! I just like to imagine Arya and Gendry relaxing together on Saturdays, watching films and playing games. Also, did you like the Boromir reference?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sansa and Arya have a girly chat (sort of) and some exciting plans are made. **

'Arya, have you got a minute?' purred Sansa, curling her manicured fingers around

Arya's bedroom door. Arya was sat on her bed with her laptop on her knee, but she shut the computer with a sigh and patted the bed beside her. Sansa came over and curled up her knees against Arya.

'What's up, Sansa?' she asked. Her sister wasn't her favourite sibling, because they clashed on so many topics, but they genuinely cared about each other, so Arya was happy to listen to her sister instead of playing Sims.

'Arya, are you dating Gendry?' Sansa went straight out and said it, but Arya wasn't so suave. She blushed beet red and looked away from her sister, pretending to fiddle with her mobile on the bedside table. She wished her hair was longer or thicker, and would cover her face.

'No, we're just friends,' she muttered, feeling Sansa's arm slip around her shoulder.

'Really? 'Cause you've been spending, like, every waking minute with him recently,' she pointed out saucily.

Arya shook her arm off and glared at her, 'Seriously, we're. Just. Friends.'

'Hmm,' Sansa scoffed, 'Shame. He's hot.'

Arya's glare got even more evil.

'What? Don't tell me you haven't noticed!' Sansa laughed. Arya refused to answer.

Of course she had noticed how hot Gendry was. In fact, she spent far too much time thinking about the smooth lines of his face when it split into that stupid toothy grin of his, or wondering how his finely toned chest would feel against her fingertips. But he was just her friend. To him, she was a little girl, and to her, he should be another brother.

'Anyway, I was thinking,' said Sansa, smiling at her sister's reddened cheeks, 'That you should invite him to Robb's wedding.'

'Why?' Arya asked, furrowing her brow.

'Like, as your date, stupid!' sighed Sansa, laughing.

'Really, why?'

'Well, you might get bored, and he's a family friend so he'll be welcome,' explained Sansa. She had it all figured out, 'And who knows, it might be fun!'

Arya picked her laptop up as her sister left.

'It just might,' she murmured.

...

Gendry couldn't stop thinking about last night. He had had a take-away pizza with Arya, which they did a lot, and watched some crappy gameshow on tv, but that wasn't what he was thinking about. Something seemed to have changed, and he felt open around her, so he had told her his biggest secret.

'There's another reason I can't afford a playstation.'

Arya had tipped her head to one side, and said, 'Oh?'

'Yeah,' he said, and felt himself blushing, 'I'm saving up to go to South America.'

'Wow, that sounds cool,' she said, 'Like, backpacking?'

'No,' he said, 'I want to live there, start over, be... Be someone better.'

Arya started to protest, tell him he was already someone great, but he continued, 'I've never even left the country before. I'm just an uneducated lowlife with no family and no friends. Over there, I could be someone. Not just a nobody.'

And then, out of nowhere, she put her rough little hand over his and met his eyes.

'You're my best friend,' she said simply, and then neither of them had mentionedthe conversation again.

It was special, this sharing of a secret. It made them rely on each other- as though they hadn't before! He knew that neither of them had anything else, anyone else, but for some reason he was constantly worried that she'd abandon him and go back to her rich friends- even though she assured him they were deathly boring and even stupider than him- or to her family villa in the South of France. He had never been abroad, and she could go whenever she wanted.

'Gendry? Hello?' Hot Pie was talking to him. The two boys were sharing a breaktogether out the back of the Wall. Hot Pie was having a cigarette and Gendry was trying to ignore the scent, seeing as he'd given up six months before.

'What?' he said, looking at Hot Pie sidelong.

'Isn't that your girlfriend on table five?'

'I haven't got a girlfriend,' he muttered, but Gendry span around to peek in at the restaurant nonetheless. Arya Stark was sat alone at table five, playing with the straw in her strawberry milkshake.

'You're dumped, Hot Pie,' he said, smiling, and went back into The Wall. Arya looked up when he came in, and a smile lit up her face. Gendry slipped into the seat opposite her.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?' he asked, unable to stop himself from smiling at her.

'How long do you have?' she asked, resting her head on her hand.

'Five minutes,' he answered, 'But I'm free all evening if you want me?'

It was an innuendo, but it was a joke one, something that was all too common in their conversations. Gendry often wondered how much of it was a joke.

'Can't,' she said, 'The Baratheons are coming to dinner.'

'I'm sorry,' he said, sticking his bottom lip out in jest.

'Ok, I can't put this off any more,' she sighed, and looked down, 'Will you come to Robb's wedding with me?'

'What?' Gendry spat, convinced he had misheard her.

'Not like a date, stupid,' she said, bashing the straw around now, 'Just to keep me company, and also you're a friend of Robb's so you should come!'

Gendry paused. He did want to see Robb get married- they had met a few times and Gendry respected Arya's nice brother- but even more, he wanted to see Arya dressed up. And if he got food and wine and maybe some dancing with his best friend out of it, then why not?

'I won't be intruding?' he asked, nervously.

'Gendry, Jeyne's inviting fifty people Robb's never met. He'd be glad to see a familiar face,' she said.

'Ok then, I suppose I'd better find a suit,' he said, smiling.

'They're making me wear a dress,' groaned Arya.

Gendry smiled at the idea... he'd quite like to see her in a dress.

**A/N: I apologise for the lack of actual Gendrya in this chapter, but I really wanted to do some character development so here you go! I've had this written a little while but I know I'll be busy later so I'm staggering it to every other day so that I can get everything planned out. I want to get this fic finished before I go on holiday in two weeks' time, but I have no idea how many more chapters there will be, to be honest. I'll just keep writing!**

**Oh and thanks for all the lovely reviews, it means a lot that people are actually reading and enjoying this- it makes me want to carry on and feeds my ego! And I'm so pleased so many of you got the Boromir reference, I was fangirling all over the place when I wrote that ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**In which Gendry has trouble with ties, and goes to Robb's wedding with Arya.**

Gendry had been trying for fifteen minutes to tie his bow-tie, and he wasn't having any luck. Arya was picking him up in ten minutes, and he was still stood in his bathroom with no trousers on, in just his shirt and bloody tie.

When the doorbell rang, it scared the life out of him. Surely Arya wasn't early? She made a point to always be late!

He threw on his trousers and answered the door, and there she was, her petite yet muscular frame swathed in emerald green silk. The dress was loose and hung off her nineteen-twenties style, except for some ruching around the waist which just drew his attention straight to her hips. He remembered when they had fought at the gym, and her knees had trapped him down, and her hips had been so close to his- but truly, her figure was incredible.

'You look nice,' he said, though that was a vast understatement. 'I don't,' she said bitterly, 'I look like an oak tree.'

He gazed at her, wondering where she had gotten that impression from, until he spotted the leaf-shaped gold embroidery on her hemline, just touching the bottom of her kneecap.

'Nice, though,' he said, smiling in spite of himself, 'A nice oak tree.'

She was trying to grimace, but Gendry could see the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

'You look a state, as usual,' she said, surveying his disarray with a raised eyebrow, 'Your flies are undone.'

Gendry blushed furiously as his fingers hurriedly did up the zipper. When he was finished, he couldn't meet her eyes.

'Are you any good at bow ties?' he asked, staring at the wall two feet to the side of her head.

She snorted. 'I've never touched one in my life.'

'Ah,' he said, 'We could be in trouble then.'

Arya looked at him thoughtfully.

'I guess... you don't _need_ a bow tie,' she said, 'Have you got a nice normal tie?'

He shrugged, and she sighed, and pushed past him into his bedroom. Gendry tried not to cry out in horror as she opened his wardrobe and started rummaging through his clothes.

'Where are your ties?' she said, having no luck in the wardrobe. She started on his drawers, and Gendry ran to intervene- but not before Arya had caught sight of the condoms in the second drawer.

Her eyes widened, and she froze.

'They're on the back of the door,' he said quietly, and shut the door. As he took his ties down from their hanger, he desperately avoided meeting her eyes, but when he turned back around she was laughing.

'Oh, Gendry, you player!' she said, shoving his arm as they went back into the kitchen.

'Just... just so you know,' he stammered, seriously, 'I don't use those very often.'

Arya nodded, grimacing but with a smile in her eyes, 'Don't need to know, thanks.'

...

The ceremony was long but sweet, and at one point Gendry swore he saw Arya wipe a tear from her eye.

After, they all went to a country house, where a marquee had been set up in the gardens. It was a warm day and the sun was shining, and it seemed the perfect day for a wedding.

He sat beside Arya at the dinner, on a separate table to Robb and Jeyne. Robb simply had too much family for a family table, so Arya, Bran and Rickon had been moved onto another table nearby with some family friends, the Reeds. Arya was feeling slightly snubbed, but she understood that it was nothing personal, she was just one of the youngest, and she seemed to get on well with Bran.

If Gendry hadn't known better, he'd have said that Bran was trying to embarrass Arya in front of him.

'Hey, Arya, remember that time when you were dancing on the yacht and trying to flirt with Theon Greyjoy and you fell off into the sea?' he said, and Rickon burst out laughing.

'I did _not_ flirt with Theon Greyjoy,' she said, sounding furious.

'But you did dance and fall off a boat?' asked Gendry, smiling.

'Don't you start,' she hissed at him, but one anecdote from Gendry later, she was laughing along with her brothers.

Bran was an award-winning rock climber, he found out, and loved nothing more than rock-climbing, all day and all night. Gendry wasn't the only one interested in what he had to say, though- he noticed with happiness that Meera Reed, the girl beside Bran, seemed to be very fond of him.

After dinner, the dancing started. Arya danced mainly with her sister, but she joined every one of her brothers on the dancefloor too, and at one point the Stark kids even managed to get Ned dancing to 'Don't You Want Me Baby?'

Gendry sat out for most of it. He knew he was a terrible dancer, and he only knew the Starks, but he didn't want to break up their family idyll.

When the rest of the family were sat down, Rickon and Bran outside with their friends, Arya came over to him.

'Come on, spoilsport, you haven't got up all night' she complained.

'I did the macarena,' he pointed out, blushing.

'A poor choice,' she said, 'Come on, Stupid.'

She seized his hand and dragged him up to his feet. As they reached the dancefloor, the upbeat pop song that had been playing finished, and a slow acoustic guitar riff started playing. Arya, still fizzing from the champagne, put her arms instinctively around his neck and pressed her hips to his. Gendry paused only a moment before placing his hands on her waist, his big fingers splayed across the thin fabric of her dress.

They swayed gently in time with the music, but it wasn't until the second chorus that she finally looked up. Arya met his eyes, and for once they weren't the colour of storm clouds, but liquid silver, watery with drunken happiness. She smiled. 'You're good at this,' she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

'I...I'm really not,' he said, embarrassed, but she just smiled and leant her head into his neck.

Her hair tickled his chin and Gendry could smell her shampoo. This was bad. The sweet smell, and the gentle pressure of her skin on his, was sending bolts straight to his groin. He didn't want to stop though, because he was having a nice time holding Arya, and stopping her would mean explaining why. No, stopping this dance was a very bad idea. He just had to think about how awful it would be if he got a boner right now, and how Jon and Robb would beat him up if they knew his feelings towards their little sister, and how she would be so ashamed she would never speak to him again.

The idea of never speaking to her again was enough to sober him up, and he spent the rest of the song holding her, and thinking how good it was that he was friends with this brilliant, gorgeous girl.

**A/N: This is only the first half of the wedding, there's more to come in the next chapter because I just couldn't fit everything I wanted to happen into one chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it because OH GOD DID I ENJOY WRITING IT?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Part two of the wedding! It's all going downhill from here...**

******Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

At the end of the song, Arya held onto him for longer than was strictly necessary. She could smell his aftershave, and feel the tense muscles of his chest through his shirt (he had taken his jacket off earlier), and his nuclear warmth was comforting to her.

She looked up at him, close enough to see the stubble on his chin, and smiled. She breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but the next song was starting and it was 'Baby I Love You' by The Ramones and suddenly Sansa was seizing Arya by the waist and dragging her away, and Arya was jumping and dancing and laughing away from him. They formed a large circle, clearly something the family had all done before, and linked hands to dance- or rather, scream along with the words and move almost in time.

Gendry found himself between Catelyn Stark and a family friend he didn't know, a handsome young man with a far better singing voice than Gendry, who only just knew the words well enough to sing along.

Afterwards, the man looked at him as if just noticing that he existed.

'Sorry, can I help you?' Gendry asked, trying to keep his cool.

'No, sorry,' said the older guy, shaking himself and smiling good-naturedly, 'It's just... You could be my brother.'

'Hey, Gendry!' Arya was calling him, grabbing his arm, but she stilled when she saw the other man, and awkwardly muttered, 'Oh, hi, Renly.'

'Oh, Arya, is this your boyfriend?' asked Renly, smiling slyly.

'No!' she practically shouted, at the same time as Gendry. They leapt away from each other and both blabbered denials, whilst Renly raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

'Anyway, I was just saying to your friend,' said Renly, smirking, 'That we could practically be brothers, don't you think?'

Renly moved to stand beside Gendry, and lifted a hand to point at the similarities.

And they really were very similar. They had the same strong nose and broad chin, and identical piercing blue eyes. It was strange, actually, that she'd never noticed it before, as she had known Renly Baratheon all her life, and she had spent far too much time staring at Gendry's face in the last few months.

'That is... Uncanny!' gasped someone else, a gruff man's voice. Arya turned around to see her father with his best friend, Robert Baratheon. Robert was the one who had exclaimed, and Ned was frowning.

'Congratulations on your parenthood, Renly,' said Robert, laughing.

'I think that's somewhat unlikely,' retorted Renly, 'My partners aren't usually capable of childbirth.'

'Who are your parents, son?' asked Robert, patronisingly. Arya stepped closer to Gendry defensively. She knew this was a sensitive issue to Gendry, who'd lost his mum a few years before but didn't like to talk about it.

'My mum was Sally Waters,' he said tensely, 'Didn't know my dad.'

'Sally Waters?' repeated Robert pensively, 'Blonde bird, pub singer?'

'My mum was not a bird,' Gendry spat through tight lips. Arya laid a hand on his arm, looking at him whilst everyone in the little crowd around them looked at Robert Baratheon, the wealthy CEO of a car manufacturing company upsetting some young lad.

'Oh, Sally Waters,' he sighed happily, as if he hadn't heard Gendry, 'She was a good girl, didn't realise she had a son. When were you born, boy?'

Gendry told him the year, and Robert laughed. By now, Ned was glaring at his friend too, annoyed at him for upsetting Arya's friend and making a scene.

'You could well be mine, boy,' he laughed, 'Don't tell Cersei, she wants all my inheritance for her little pussy of a son.'

Gendry stayed silent, and Arya silently cursed Robert. He couldn't even manage to be nice to his wife and kids. To be fair, Arya wasn't very nice to Joffrey either, but that wasn't the point.

'How is Sally these days?' asked Robert, grinning.

'She's dead,' said Gendry, 'And I don't need or want a father. I don't want to listen to your bullshit and I don't want to talk to you about my mother.'

'You might welcome a bit of my advice, Gendry,' Robert said after the shortest of pauses, 'Because you've not even managed to shag Little Miss Stark yet, have you?'

Ned frowned, but Arya sprang into action first, and pounced at Robert with her fists bared. She got him on the cheekbone before Gendry and Ned could drag her away.

Ned looked over his daughter's head at Gendry.

'Take her home,' he said, so solemnly that Gendry knew that wasn't an invitation for anything more.

Gendry hauled the still-struggling Arya over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, and didn't put her down until they were outside, waiting for a taxi.

'You're nothing like him,' she said, passion in her voice and her eyes, too, when they met his, 'He's a bastard, and you... you're one of the greatest men I've ever known.'

Gendry smiled sheepishly.

'Who your father is doesn't define you, Gendry,' she finished with a shrug.

She dozed off against the window in the taxi.

**A/N: What's a wedding without a fight, eh? I also had to slip Renly in because he's my precious baby and he's fabulous and I love him.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**The morning after. ****Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

Arya awoke with a banging in her head and an ache in her feet. She realised absent-mindedly that someone had taken her strappy high heels off, and she didn't remember doing it herself.

She rolled over, and suddenly the discrepancy struck her. She wasn't in her own bed. She wasn't even in Sansa's, which she could have expected after the wedding. This was a boy's room, no doubt about it. The walls were burgundy and the floor was wooden, and the furniture was spartan. She sat up, pulling the covers around her as protection against the brisk air, and it was only the smell of the duvet that jogged her memory.

It smelt of woodsmoke and sweat and slightly... of cinnamon. It reminded her of last night, when she had danced with her head against his collarbone, enclosed in those warm, strong arms.

Gendry. This was his bedroom. This was his bed.

How had she ended up here?

She jogged her memory, trying to recall the events of the previous night. She remembered dancing with Gendry, and then with her family, and then an encounter with Renly. She remembered an argument with Robert Baratheon, finding out that Gendry was his son! And then her mind went blank.

'Morning, sleepyhead!' called Gendry himself, pushing open the door gently. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of jogging bottoms, and his hair was mussed up like he'd just woken up.

Arya was still wearing her dress, and- she quickly checked- her knickers were still intact.

'Gendry, why am I in your bed?' she asked, biting her bottom lip.

He smiled. 'Don't worry, I slept on the sofa.'

She sighed, relieved. 'Why aren't I at home?'

Gendry went over to the wardrobe and took out a pair of jeans. 'After you punched... Robert Baratheon, your father asked me to take you home. You fell asleep in the taxi.' He smiled to himself, remembering how her soft little body had clung to his when if carried her in from the car, her hands clutching subconsciously at his neck.

'Thanks,' she said, as Gendry fished some pants and a t-shirt out of one of his drawers. He blushed involuntarily at the thought of the condom escapade the day before.

'I'm going for a shower,' he said, turning to face her, 'You can hop in after me, if you want, and you can borrow some clothes if you like?'

'Thanks,' she repeated, eyes slightly downcast.

Whilst she showered, Gendry cooked breakfast. He poached a couple of eggs and fried some sausages and bacon. Just as he set out the plates on the table, she emerged from the bathroom with damp hair, wearing one of his t-shirts which was so big on her that she didn't need trousers.

'That smells great,' she said, and shoved it all down her throat faster than Gendry could believe. 'What time is it?' she asked him casually.

'Quarter past three,' he said, grinning. They had wasted the whole day sleeping, and... it was a surprisingly good feeling.

After 'breakfast', they fell down on the sofa, and Arya put her feet up onto Gendry's lap.

'How can I still be so tired after so many hours' sleep?' she questioned, sliding down the sofa arm to lean back her head, and inadvertently letting his t-shirt ride up her leg so that Gendry could see most of her thigh. He switched on the radio and closed his eyes to avoid looking at her bare legs.

'Gendry?' she said in a meek little voice that pulled at his heartstrings. He turned his head to look at her, meeting her pencil-lead eyes.

'What's the matter?' he asked.

'I... I think I want to go to South America with you,' she said.

He frowned at her. 'Wha... Why? You have a perfect life here.'

'No I don't,' she sighed, 'My parents only expect me to be a trophy wife, and I'm no good at anything. I'm no good at school, I'm no good at sport, and I'm no good as a daughter.'

'You're good at boxing,' he pointed out.

'I'll never make it pro,' she muttered, 'I'm just a spoilt little girl.'

Gendry looked at her for a long moment, trying to find the words to explain how brilliant she was. She was sharp and funny and beautiful, and she could take anything she wanted if she felt so inclined. But he was just a guy, and he didn't know how to tell her that, and he definitely didn't want to scare her off, so he just opened his arms and said, 'Come here,' and embraced her when she twisted around to curl up against his side.

'If you said the word, I'd run away to South America in a heartbeat,' he informed her honestly.

...

Gendry gave her a lift home about six o'clock. She briefly paused in the kitchen to say hello to her parents, and then she went up to her bedroom, fully intending just to sleep through till Monday.

But as she drew her curtains shut, three polite taps rang on her door, and Jon came in.

'How are you?' she asked him, sitting beside her brother on her bed.

'A bit sore from last night,' he said, smiling.

'Me too,' she laughed, and Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulder and cradled her in.

'I can't get used to you being a grown-up girl,' he confessed, 'You'll always just be my little sister.'

She wriggled in his grip. 'Don't say that!'

Jon laughed. Same old Arya, wanting to be older than her years.

'Arya, I have some news,' he said gently, 'And I thought I'd wait until after Robb's wedding.'

'What?' she said, trying not to worry, 'Are you pregnant?'

'Very funny,' he said, and twisted so he was facing her, 'Look, the thing is, I've found a job up North, and Ygritte's parents live there, so... We're going to move.'

Arya was looking pensive, which worried Jon. He'd expected petulance or shock, but she seemed quite accepting. 'Good for you,' she said, bumping into his arm gently.

'We leave just after your birthday,' he said, feeling a little disappointed by her acceptance, 'Arya, aren't you going to miss me?'

'Loads,' she nodded, with heavy, sad eyes.

Jon cuddled her close, and Arya wondered what it would be like to say goodbye to Jon if she was leaving- and not just home, but the continent.

**A/N: *Dramatic music* I wonder if you can see where I'm going with this? I lost a bit of faith yesterday but it's back now, and I can see where the story is going now. I'm rather excited for the next bit. **


	9. Chapter 9

**It's Arya's birthday party, and there are surprises in store... and presents. **

Arya woke up excited, like she always had on her birthday. Thankfully, somewhere along the line she had stopped waking up at five am. She glanced at the clock and saw it was half past eight. It was a Saturday, so she didn't have to get up for school, but she still silently slipped downstairs in her pyjamas and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She sat on a barstool and looked out of the French windows at the garden. They were lucky. It was a lovely day.

At nine, the postman came, and she got up to see what he had brought. There were a couple of cards, two small parcels and a bill for her parents. She took the pile back into the kitchen, and found Bran and Rickon waiting for her. Bran, sixteen years old, was sitting sleepily on a stool, nursing a mug of coffee, but eleven-year-old Rickon was almost as excited as Arya, and leapt up when she came in. She embraced her littlest brother, though he wriggled and protested, and then came up behind Bran and cuddled him too.

'Happy birthday, Arya,' he said drowsily, although she knew he was up every weekday at six to get some rock-climbing in before school.

A more shrill voice wished her a happy birthday too as she came into the kitchen, and Sansa hugged Arya tightly. 'Eighteen at last!' she cried.

As soon as Ned and Catelyn arrived in their dressing gowns, she started opening presents. She was a little sad that Jon wasn't there, but he had to work- and she supposed she should get used to it. He'd be back for the party anyway.

...

At eleven o'clock Gendry was woken by a phone call to the landline. He missed it the first time, in his semi-conscious state, but just caught it on the second ring.

'Hello?' he said groggily.

'Gendry, you'd better be up,' said Arya warningly from the other end.

'Yeah, sure,' he said, clearing his throat away from the receiver, 'I'm just... Doing my hair.'

'Liar. I woke you up, didn't I?' she said.

'Yeah... You caught me,' he answered, smiling.

'Well get dressed! Robb's picking you up in an hour!' she commanded.

'Sir, yessir,' he replied jokingly, 'Wait... What should I wear?'

'Smart casual... Like, a shirt and nice trousers,' she said. Arya may have known nothing about fashion, but she knew more than Gendry.

'Ok. I assume you're wearing the same?' he said. Arya loved to wear men's clothes, and he often found his shirts and goodies missing.

'Ha ha, no. Sansa's making me wear a dress,' she replied bitterly.

Gendry said goodbye and smiled to himself as he got in the shower. He couldn't quite explain why, but he loved seeing Arya in a dress.

...

At ten past twelve, Robb and Jeyne arrived with Gendry. The family were all running around trying to get everything ready for the guests, who weren't due to arrive until half past, but they refused to let Arya help. Every time she made to get up, somebody would stop her and tell her to relax.

Gendry was the only other who was exempt. He came to sit with her.

'Happy birthday,' he said, almost shyly.

'Thanks,' she replied, smiling.

'Look, Arya,' he said, in a serious tone, putting his hand into his pocket and wriggling around, 'I want to give this to you before everyone else gets here.'

He held out a small parcel to her, wrapped in tacky paper and with a small label on it that read, To Arya, Love Gendry. She took it from his hands.

'Thank you, Gendry,' she smiled, and started to unwrap it. Inside was a plain box, which she slipped the lid off. She pulled out a leather cord with a tiny charm on it, a little metal wolf.

'I made it myself,' he said softly, looking at the necklace looped around her fingers rather than her face, 'It's a bit clumsy but I wanted to give you something personal, and I knew wolves are your favourite animal, so...'

He trailed off. She wasn't saying anything, and he instantly regretted giving it to her. It was crappy and cheap, and she undoubtedly had loads of much prettier, more expensive jewellery from her family. She wouldn't want to wear a sentimental hunk of metal given to her by some creeper friend of her cousin's.

'Oh, Gendry,' she murmured, and he looked up to see her smiling, with slightly shining eyes, 'I love it.'

He beamed with pride. 'Really?'

'Yes, of course! It's lovely!' she said, grinning back at him, and she leant forward to hug him tightly, her arms weaving around his neck. Gendry's hands sat firmly on her waist, pulling her a little closer. She made a funny little noise.

'I'm falling,' she said in a light voice, and Gendry felt her weight dropping heavier onto him, and then the barstool she was perched on slipped away behind her, and she was fully in his arms, wetting herself laughing.

'Arya, what have you done now?' asked Sansa, coming in from the garden.

'I fell!' she replied, laughing, and then the doorbell rang and Sansa went to answer it.

...

The party was good fun, even though Arya didn't have many friends to invite, and Gendry managed to avoid the Baratheons all night. He just followed Jon around really, not really knowing anyone else except Arya, who was busy being paraded around to everyone. By eight o'clock most people had left, and Catelyn and Ned were inside, having drinks with the Baratheons and the Tyrells. Jon was busy chatting with a flame-haired girl, his girlfriend Ygritte, and Gendry sat down alone under a tree, sipping an ice-cold beer. It was a warm day, and the sun was just setting. From there, he could see the golden-lilac sky, and cool down a little. He leant back against the tree and let out a deep happy sigh.

'Well that was horrible,' said Arya, coming to sit beside him. She splayed out her legs alongside his, long and bare, and then took off her shoes. They were strappy high-heeled sandals, and her feet were red and bruised from them.

'Don't say you didn't enjoy your own birthday party,' Gendry said, softly teasing. He tipped his head to the side to look at her.

'Oh, it was alright,' she said, meeting his eyes, 'I would rather have spent it with you though.'

'I'm not that interesting, am I?' he asked, smiling. In the orange sunset, her eyes shone, and her velvety, dusky hair was swept over one shoulder. Her dress was black and low-cut, studded with diamantes. It was the cocktail dress of an older woman, but Arya looked incredible.

'You're better than my grandparents,' she sighed, 'The Tullys don't half go on about my 'duty to do well at school'.'

Gendry's smile stilled. He was still happy, but she was looking at him so intensely with those powerful grey eyes that it took his breath away.

'Oh, you're wearing my necklace,' he said softly, reaching over to touch the charm. He was pleased that she liked it, and it made him so proud to have a part of him on her.

'I don't know if I said this,' she murmured in a slightly husky voice, 'But it's perfect.'

Gendry couldn't tear his gaze from her face. She was illuminated by the setting sun from behind, and the outside, loose hairs on her head were gold-tinged. They were behind the shed, he thought dangerously, no one could see them.

But Arya acted first. She moved just an inch closer and he filled in the gap, molding her lips to his like her life depended on it. Her eyes were open, inquisitive, questioning, until he put a warm hand to the side of her face, and another on her slender waist, and she sighed into him. Her fingers raked faint lines on his chest over his broad muscles, and she wriggled roughly to get closer until she was on top of him, straddling his lap. Her kisses were firey, like everything she did, repeated strokes that made Gendry hotter and hotter. She ran her hands along the waistband of his trousers, and then changed her mind. She worked up his shirt, unfastening his buttons with impressive speed, and then he sat up a little to curl out of the shirt. Her breasts, small but pert, pressed hard against his chest, and he let out the tiniest of involuntary groans. She slowed down, gradually, until she planted one final, long, steamy kiss on his lips.

She opened her eyes and grinned at him, and then rolled off. She lay alongside him, their legs tangled, her feet only just reaching past his knees. Her head lay on his chest, next to one palm. All of Gendry's heat centred on that palm, and to distract himself he looked down at the crown of her head and started counting hairs.

She stirred when someone shouted her name across the garden. She sat up abruptly and moved further from him, and tidied her hair. A girl came around the corner of the tree, about twenty years old and pretty in a sort of mysterious way.

'Oh, Arya, there you are,' she said, raising an eyebrow at Gendry's shirtlessness, 'We're just heading off now.'

'Oh, ok, Margaery, I'll come in,' Arya said, hoisting herself to her feet and following Margaery away. She was barefoot.

Gendry was left there in the shade of the tree, the imprint of her hot lips still resting on his skin.

**A/N: SQUEEEEE I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I WROTE THIS. But this isn't over yet! There are a fair few more chapters yet, and I think I can squeeze most of them out before I go on holiday... hmm...**


	10. Chapter 10

**We've hit double figures! That took its time. Here be angsting, awkwardness and OH MY GOD WILL YOU TWO JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

Arya rolled out of bed with a deep sigh. Everything seemed to be more difficult this week, and she didn't think it had much to do with being eighteen.

She had only seen Gendry once since her birthday party, and they hadn't even had chance to talk because Jon was there. They had all gone shopping together, but Jon didn't even leave them alone to try anything on. He had briefly left them to go to the toilet whilst they ate lunch, but Gendry didn't say anything about the party and for some reason Arya couldn't gather the courage to say, 'So Gendry, we kissed.' She was really embarrassed about it actually, and had herself convinced that he was avoiding her. She'd been quite drunk at the party, and the confidence that had made her kiss Gendry had deserted her once she reached sobriety. She was sure he had only not complained because he too was drunk, and didn't want to embarrass her at her party. Because why would Gendry want to kiss her? She was a scrawny, aggressive girl, 5 years younger than him.

So she too had avoided him this week. It was usually Arya who texted first to arrange their meet-ups, cut she was too scared so she simply hadn't texted.

But it was getting to her. She really had no other friends, and so this week had been very lonely. She had only had sixth form work to fill her time, and today she was going to the gym after college. She only had lessons in the morning on a Thursday, so at twelve thirty she caught the bus (Jon's work was further away, so he got the car) to the gym. She headed straight to the boxing ring and started to beat the crap out of a punchbag, not caring that small breathy noises were leaping from her throat sporadically.

It took a few tries to get her to hear his voice, but finally she did, and turned around, fists still bared. Gendry backed up a little, palms raised in surrender.

'Gods, Arya, you're quite scary like that,' he said, laughing.

'Thanks,' she said, squeezing out a compliment where there wasn't one.

There was a long pause. Arya looked at her gloves awkwardly and Gendry watched her face intently. She wondered if he simply didn't remember the kiss. Maybe he'd been more drunk than she thought, and the evening was all a blur to him? It was feasible.

But now he was looking bored. Arya wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. Drunken or not, their kiss had ignited some new passion in her, and she craved Gendry's company.

'I haven't had any lunch yet,' she spat out, too fast, too squeaky, 'Come eat with me?'

Gendry glanced at his watch. 'Yeah, sure.'

...

Arya had gone to quickly shower and change, and Gendry was waiting in the bar. She had asked him to order her a croque monsieur, and he was waiting for that too arrive too.

He was doing a lot of waiting this week. He had woken up on Sunday morning, after the party, with the memory of Arya's kiss still tingling on his lips. He had also had a familiar stiffness... But he didn't want to think about that. Arya was his best friend. He shouldn't be thinking about her like that.

And he tried not to. He longed to text her, call her- turn up at her house and scale the wall to appear at her window!- and declare that he loved kissing her and would very much like to kiss her again, please.

But he didn't want to push her. He waited for her to make the first move, say the first word, but she didn't. It reached Tuesday and they went shopping, Gendry, Arya and Jon. And she didn't say a word about it. So he kept waiting, even though it killed him.

The food arrived before Arya, so he started to tuck in to his bacon butty. In his opinion, there was nothing worse than cold bacon.

'Starting without me? That's not very gentlemanly,' said Arya, bowling over to him in tiny shorts and a t-shirt that- yes, it was one of his- with her choppy hair still wet and a smirk on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.

'Sorry, m'lady,' he said.

'Don't call me that,' she hissed, sitting beside him on the sofa rather than on the chair opposite. He wondered if she wanted to be close to him, to touch him and kiss him and hold him- and he wanted it too. Or maybe she just didn't want to sit opposite him and have to make eye contact.

They ate in silence for a minute or two and then Gendry decided to start a conversation. 'Did you enjoy your birthday party then?'

Arya swallowed. 'Yeah, it was good.'

He glanced at her, and noticed that she was wearing his wolf necklace. 'Nice necklace, was it expensive?'

She smiled, and reached a hand up to fiddle with it. 'You know I love it, Gendry?'

'Thanks,' he said, smiling sidelong at her. He was very proud of it, and it made his heart swell that she liked it enough to wear it.

They chewed in silence for another minute.

'Gendry,' she said in a soft voice, as both of them stared forward, an inch between them but both feeling miles apart, 'I didn't dream that, did I? At the party?'

He didn't have to ask, he knew what she meant. 'It was real.'

They were both silent for a moment. Gendry had no idea what Arya was thinking, but he was trying to find the words to say how he felt. He'd never been very good at putting words to his thoughts, and he was still feeling a bit embarrassed for being ridiculously in love- he might as well admit it to himself- with an eighteen-year-old girl. If it was anyone else, he'd think it was weird.

But still he couldn't stop himself from moving slightly to place his hand on hers on the seat between them.

'We should be friends,' she murmured, not sounding convinced, 'Nothing else.'

He stopped suddenly, surprised and disappointed. He looked at her face, and saw the cold stillness in her icy grey eyes. He lifted his hand.

'Yeah, that's a good idea,' he said.

They talked neutrally whilst they finished eating, and then went up to the gym and ran on the treadmills side-by-side. After that, they went for a quick swim in the pool. When she splashed water in his face, he thought for a second that he saw the normal Arya, playing and joking, but when he dropped her home after, she was gone again.

**A/N: A bit of a slow one, but I promise the next chapter will be more exciting! I'm desperately trying to get this finished before I go on holiday so there will probably be a maximum of five more chapters. **

**Also, I'm sorry that I don't put them up on until way after tumblr but I, unlike the rest of the internet, like sleep, and so I never go on my laptop very late. And I have no way of posting them from my ipod or phone. Sorry.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, I'm going on holiday today and I can't post on here whilst on the go. I have got some more chapters queued on my tumblr (partyinthenorth, the same as this) so they will keep coming over the next few days but I'm so sorry that I have no way to put them up on here until I get back. Yeah. Apologies.**

**After getting a little too close, Arya and Gendry are back to being friends, and have a super-adorable night out.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

They were watching The Hangover, but neither of them were laughing. Arya was sprawled comfortably on the sofa, her long legs clad in jeans and her upper body swamped in one of his hoodies, but Gendry was sat on a separate chair, hovering away from her. He was too stressed to concentrate on the movie. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and how close she was, and how dainty she looked in his clothes. And she wanted to just be friends. It killed him.

Arya stood up about halfway through the film. Gendry's heart leapt at the thought of her leaving so soon, but it was alright.

'Can you pause it? I need the loo,' she said, looking at Gendry with a funny look in her eyes.

'Sure,' he said, picking up the remote.

He waited in silence for a minute, picking up his phone, which was devoid of messages. Of course it was, Arya was the only person who ever texted him.

When she came back, she looked pensive for a minute. 'I'm bored,' she said, 'Is there anywhere we could go?'

Gendry looked at her blankly for a minute, and then snapped into action. 'There's a band playing at The Wall tonight, indie band, they're on at eight.'

She looked at the clock on the wall. It was only quarter to seven, they could easily make it. 'We should go,' she said, sounding interested.

'Sure, I'll just get changed,' he said. Arya pulled the hoodie over her head and her strappy top came up as she did, revealing some of her pale, strongly-muscled stomach. Gendry looked away and nipped into his bedroom to quickly change.

They arrived before the band came on, and sat down for a drink. A girl called Willow served them, and Gendry had a quick chat to her when she brought their drinks out- he hadn't seen her in a while because she worked mostly different shifts to him. Was it his imagination or did Arya bristle when he stood up to embrace Willow?

When she left them alone, they sat uncomfortably in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Gendry spoke. 'Have you applied to any unis yet?'

'No,' she said, glumly, 'I don't know if I want to go.'

Gendry looked at her pensively. He wasn't about to preach to her that she was wasting her life or anything. He had left school and gone straight into waiting tables to help his ailing mother, without even going to sixth form college.

'What d'you want to do? Like, as a job?' he asked.

She shrugged. 'When I was little, I wanted to be a knight,' she said, smirking, 'Like St George or something.'

He laughed quietly. 'That's very cool.'

She rolled her eyes. 'But not very feasible.'

'What about you?' she asked, in that bold, unashamed tone she always used, 'Surely you didn't always want to be a waiter?'

'No,' he sighed, 'I wanted to be an engineer, but my mum got ill so I had to get a job fast.'

'Oh,' she breathed, and Gendry noticed that he didn't mind at all that she was so forward and almost rude.

They were silent for a while, but this time it was a comfortable silence, the unsaid things between them soft and homely.

'I've started learning Spanish,' she said confidentially. Gendry looked at her, aghast.

'Why?'

She looked hurt. 'We were going to go to South America,' she said in a tiny, soft voice that Gendry wouldn't have thought her capable of.

'Arya-' he started, wondering how to tell her she was being too unrealistic, that South America was a pipe dream, he didn't hold much hope for it actually happening.

But then the band started, and he couldn't shout over it. They played some pretty good songs, and later moved on to covers.

Arya suddenly perked up they started to play Teenage Kicks, and downed her drink. She stood up.

'Come and dance with me,' she yelled, seizing his hand and dragging him up. Gendry staggered up and followed her to the dancefloor. She jumped, more than danced, and swung her hair madly, until the chorus when she put her hands on Gendry's shoulders and shouted the words into his face. This was the real Arya, his friend Arya, the vibrant, boisterous girl with fire in her icy eyes.

At the end of the song, she screamed loudly. The singer came closer to the mic and said, 'This next one's an old folk song, but we've... uh... kind of rocked it up a bit.'

Gendry knew the song. His mother used to sing it as a lullaby, but in this arrangement it was a love song, loud and clear.

_My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I'll lay you down._

_I'll dress you all in yellow silk, and on your head a crown._

The music was lilting and soft, and Arya's body seemed to know what to do better than her head. She stepped closer to Gendry, and put her arms around his neck, pressing her head to his chest. Her feet between his, she swayed from side to side, and he could hardly stop himself from letting his hands fall to her hips, following their sweeping movements with his fingertips.

He loved this, being so close to her, breathing in the scent of her hair, crisp and outdoorsy like the North wind, wondering how someone so small could be such a massive pain in his arse.

At the end of the set, Gendry drove her home. In the car, she put on the CD she had bought from the band.

'What were they called again?' he said, not trying to break the comfortable silence whilst they listened to the music but genuinely interested.

'Sevenstrings,' she answered, looking across at him, 'They were good, weren't they?'

'Yeah,' he said, smiling, 'It was a nice night.'

'Yeah,' she answered, 'I'm glad we can be friends again.'

'Me too.'

When she got out of the car, she looked at him pensively. 'Thank you for being there for me.'

'No problem,' he answered, smiling.

The breath sucked out of him as she leant in towards him, but she just kissed his cheek.

'I love you, you know that, Gendry?'

_Not like I love you_.

**A/N: YAY they're friends again! Happy feels! And more to come. I predict there will be about five more chapters, so I'm working fast to get them done before I go on holiday. Wish me luck! And thank you for all your lovely reviews- and for carrying on reading this far! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Right, because I feel guilty that I won't be updating this on here (BUT I WILL ON TUMBLR SO KEEP CHECKING) you get this chapter early. You're welcome.  
**

**Can Arya and Gendry really keep this 'just friends' thing up? What do you think?**

It had been three days since the concert and Arya was still full of regret. She wished she had more self-control, had been able to stop herself from dancing with Gendry, or hadn't gone to the bloody concert in the first place. And she definitely regretted kissing Gendry on the cheek. Who did that? It was cheesy and awful, and could so easily be misconstrued as the same thing that had made her snog him at the party, some childish crush.

But, if she was honest with herself, that wasn't the real regret. The real regret was not kissing him full on the lips like she longed to, like she did every night in her dreams. Well, that... and so much else.

Speaking of the devil, her phone rang.

'Gendry?' she said, glancing at the caller ID.

'Hey,' he said on the other end, sounding awkward, 'Look, I need a favour and- can I pick you up in ten minutes or so?'

'You can come round,' she answered, 'There's no one home.'

And come round he did, although it made Arya laugh to see Gendry, in his scruffy tee and tattered jeans, perched nervously on the expensive leather sofa in the drawing room, glancing confusedly at the modern art on the walls.

'What's the favour, then?' she asked, slumping down beside him with a beer. Gendry took a sip of his water.

'Arya, it's two in the afternoon, you shouldn't be drinking,' he reprimanded.

She stuck out her tongue. 'I did offer!'

He sighed, and tucked her head into his chest, rubbing his knuckles on her dusky hair.

When she sat back up, laughing, he turned to her. 'Where are all your family?'

'Sansa's shopping, and the rest of them are at Bran's rock climbing contest,' she answered casually, as though this wasn't the first time the two of them had been alone in her house.

She looked at him sternly. 'No, really, what's the favour?'

'Well,' he said, and was it Arya's imagination or was Gendry blushing? 'I... I got this invite.'

'Invite?' she repeated, 'That sounds ominous.'

'Yeah. Well,' he continued, 'It was from Robert Baratheon, and he wants me to come to some party.'

'The Winter Ball?' she asked.

'Yeah. Are you going?' he said, turning fully to face her and laying his arm along the top of the sofa. Arya found herself staring at the exposed muscles of his forearm, hardly able to drag her eyes away.

'We always go, though I'd really rather not,' she answered.

'Well, I was hoping you'd be my plus one,' he said, 'I don't think I could brave them on my own.'

'That's good,' she replied, smiling, 'I'd probably die of boredom without you.'

'Thanks,' he said, sounding genuinely pleased, and then he smirked, 'I'll make all the other guys jealous.'

Arya snorted, 'What, with me?'

'Yeah,' he said, shyly, 'Arya, you're gorgeous.'

She was torn, and she let her face show it. Part of her hated being flattered, because she always knew they were exaggerating, and she didn't like being patronised with their sugar-coating. Arya was rough and fierce, and she liked to think she was bright, but she knew she wasn't pretty. When she was little, her nickname had been Horseface, and no boy had ever asked her out. She'd kissed a couple of guys- aside from Gendry- but only when she was at parties or out at clubs, and they were drunk.

But another part of her desperately wanted to believe him. She felt special with Gendry, from the way his eyes followed her across the room and how he always looked slightly dazed and afraid of her.

She wasn't used to guys liking her, and it gave her a warm feeling inside when he treated her like... like a girl. Most guys just ignored her, or acted like she was a boy when she was at the gym. They had long ago learnt not to think she was a weak little girl.

Plus, he was Gendry. He was strong and handsome and gentle, and even if he was a little stupid, he was kind and he could see straight into her heart like it was nothing.

'You're pretty gorgeous yourself,' she said, keeping it light, before anything else could happen, 'How come you haven't got a girlfriend... or boyfriend, I mean?'

'No, no, I'm not gay,' he protested quickly, 'I just... I suppose I just got a bit distracted from other girls...' his voice was soft and rumbling, 'By you.'

And this time it was Gendry who started it. Arya felt the breath suck out of her as his lips met hers, and she moved forward to rest her body against his. The arm that had been lying on the back of the sofa came down to her spine and he ran his fingers down it to the waistband of her jeans. She pulled away for breath and her eyes met his, crystalline blue and bright with energy.

'Just being friends was a stupid idea,' she murmured, and he smiled broadly.

'And you call me stupid,' he said, and kissed her again. She felt light-headed as he pushed her lips apart and drove his tongue into her open mouth, and their tongues fought each other for space violently. She remembered at the gym, when he had refused to hit her. As he paused for breath, she whispered, 'Hit me, if you dare.' He hit back with his tongue, but this time it was on her jaw, slurring kisses down her neck. She stopped him only to pull her t-shirt over her head, and glared at him whilst he just watched her. When he didn't catch on, she took matters- in this case being his shirt- into her own hands and thrust the fabric over his head. When he leant in to kiss her again, their bare chests pressed together, and the heat from Gendry's skin drew into hers, warming her up.

He moved around her on the sofa until he was leaning over her, only pressing against her at her groin. One of his hands curled in her hair, and the other went to her breast, kneading and stroking through her bra until she let out a glorious, throaty sigh. She thrust her head up to kiss him again, full of ecstasy. For that minute, she believed him. She believed that she was gorgeous, his lips told her so. And it was better than she could have imagined, being kissed by Gendry. He was her best friend, and his touch was the gentleness to temper her aggression. She never wanted to let go.

And then her phone rang. She ignored it for a minute, but Gendry pulled away and looked at her questioningly.

'You'd better answer that,' he said, sounding breathless.

She glared at him, but picked it up nonetheless.

It was her father.

'Arya? Are you there?' he said, sounding very worried. Arya stood up, tearing away from Gendry, who had been teasing her stomach with his fingertips.

'Dad? What's happened?' she asked, knowing him well enough to recognise when there was bad news.

'Bran had a fall,' he said, like the severity hadn't quite hit him yet, and he was a bit dazed, 'He's in hospital, they're about to operate.'

'Oh shit,' she breathed, and for once her father let the swearing pass, 'Which hospital are you at? I'm coming.'

'St Mary's,' her father answered, and she hung up before he could even say goodbye.

But she didn't move just yet. She stood staring blankly at Gendry, her eyes glazed over with tears. He put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him, recognition barely glinting in her eyes. He pulled her to his chest, both of them still shirtless, and held her tightly as he felt a few tears drop damply onto his skin.

'Come on, I'll drive you,' he said, leading her by the hand over to the sofa, where he pulled on his shirt.

'No, I'm fine,' she said stubbornly.

'You're really not,' he replied, and led her out to his car.

**A/N: What, you didn't think the 'just friends' thing would last, did you? And uh oh, Bran!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok I think I've figured out how to upload from my ipod, so you might just be lucky enough to get the chapters I promised! **

**With a tragic accident in the Stark family, Gendry just wants to help Arya. **

It was half past ten and Gendry's phone was ringing. He glanced over at the screen and decided to pick it up, even trying to put on a cheerful voice to hide his disgruntledness at being woken up.

'Hi Jon,' he said, 'How is he?'

'Not too good,' Jon Snow replied in a hushed voice. He had driven down last night, only arriving after Gendry left the hospital at ten. He didn't know when Jon had arrived, but it was bound to be in the wee hours of the morning. He sounded exhausted. 'They say he probably won't ever walk again.'

'God,' Gendry sighed. The news had been much the same when he left the previous night, but it seemed so much worse in the real world of the morning.

'Look, Gendry,' Jon said in a serious voice, 'Sorry to have to ask you this, but could you possibly come pick Arya up and take her back to yours? She really needs to get some rest away from Catelyn. We're all going a bit mad here.'

'Sure,' Gendry answered, almost too enthusiastically, 'That's no problem at all. I'll be there in twenty minutes or so.'

He dressed and set off quickly, swigging some orange juice out of the carton before he left.

At the hospital, Jon was outside the front doors, smoking a cigarette. Gendry thought he'd given up, but clearly the stress had gotten to him. Jon told Gendry to stay outside, because they already had too many visitors, and he came back out a few minutes later with a shattered-looking Arya. She looked tiny and pale, and she was clinging on to Jon's arm like a liferaft. When she saw Gendry she fell into his chest, and he hugged her tightly, taking care not to touch her anywhere sexual while Jon was there. He stroked her hair gently.

'Come on, let's go home,' he said softly, detaching her face from his shirt and guiding her to his car with a quick nod to Jon.

When they got to his flat, he let her go straight into his bedroom, and she didn't complain when he kissed her forehead and let her fall asleep.

He sat and watched television for a while.

At three o'clock, she crept into the lounge and sat beside him on the sofa, curling up against his chest. He had almost forgotten the events of the day before, the change in their circumstances.

'Gendry?' she said, slightly croaky.

'Yeah?' he answered, combing the hair back off her forehead with his hand.

'What are we, now?' she asked, and though the question was vague, he knew what she meant.

'If you want, I could be your boyfriend,' he suggested, scared that if they put a label on it, it became something tangible and fragile and it could be taken away from them.

'Let's not tell anyone just yet,' she murmured, and he knew that she felt the same way. If they could just keep this spark between them to themselves, then it couldn't explode or be doused or flicker and fade.

At that moment, her stomach rumbled loudly. Gendry laughed at the ugly noise.

'Breakfast, darling?' he asked, smirking.

'Yes please, I'm starving,' she said, somewhat redundantly.

He made pancakes and fished out some golden syrup to put on them.

'You're a great cook,' she told him, syrup dribbling down her chin. Gendry couldn't stop himself from leaning over and wiping it up with his finger. When his digit reached her lips, she sucked the syrup off, her mouth hot and wet and gentle against his skin. Her knife and fork dropped to the table as Gendry rounded the corner of the table and kissed her full on the mouth. Her hands were on his face and neck, warm and sticky with syrup, and he hooked his under her thighs, scooping her up to be carried like a child, with her legs split around his waist. She kissed him passionately, her lips moving fast and her tongue darting in and out of his mouth with ferocity.

She tore herself away and said, breathlessly, 'Make love to me.'

Gendry stared at her for a moment, confounded.

'Are you stupid? Fuck me, Gendry!' she said, slapping his cheek before diving in to kiss him again.

He complied, carrying her through to his bedroom and throwing her down onto the mattress, the sheets still tousled from her sleep earlier.

He leant over her and kissed her again, her legs curling up around his waist like a vice, her arms sprawled back on the duvet. He sat up to take his shirt off and leant back over her before kissing her again. His hands greedily roamed all over her body, touching and grabbing and stroking.

It was only when he pulled back to take his jeans off that he realised she was crying. He stopped kissing her and moved to sit against the headboard, her face next to his leg. He felt awful. She was still only seventeen, and a volatile young girl, and he should have known better than to take advantage of her when she was so tired and emotionally drained. He knew she had asked him to, but he couldn't help feeling like he had tried to rape her.

'It's just so wrong,' she murmured, hardly making enough sound for him to hear her, 'That I should be so happy while Bran's unconscious in the hospital, paralysed for life.'

'No,' he said, his voice too loud after her whisper, 'Awful things happen, but it doesn't mean life has to be awful.'

Arya smiled at him. 'Maybe we should have sex another day,' she said, rolling onto her side and throwing an arm over his waist. She shifted until her head was on his chest, her legs twisted through his, and lay still.

Gendry combed his fingers through her hair, like his mother used to do when he was little and had a nightmare, and after ten minutes or so, her breathing slowed. She was asleep. Thinking how 'sleeping together' meant so much more than sex, he felt himself nod off too.

**A/N: Quite a short one, sorry! But some things needed resolving before the next chapter, so expect a little more next time. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the long break! I had no way of posting whilst I was on holiday, but now you get to catch up all in a big flurry, if you haven't been following my tumblr. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.**

…

'This is so disrespectful,' Arya groaned, 'We shouldn't be going to a party while Bran's in this state.'

'You didn't really expect Cersei to cancel it so you can sit and play cards with your little brother,' said Sansa, untwisting the curlers from her sister's hair, 'Besides, Bran's doing really well, and Mother will keep him company.'

Arya grimaced, annoyed at Sansa for being right, as usual, and, more importantly, annoyed that she was being forced to go to the stupid thing in the first place.

She had managed to talk Sansa out of making her wear a dress, and was in expensive, tailored black shorts and a gorgeous aquatic blue blouse with a big bow on it. Arya's favourite thing about the blouse was that it was quite see-through, and her black bra was quite visible. Sansa wasn't so impressed.

There was room in the car for Gendry too, so Ned had offered to give him a lift. Arya was unhappy about this because she wanted to stop at his flat afterwards, but Gendry was pleased because it meant he could drink and wouldn't have to be designated driver. She always volunteered, but Gendry secretly liked the responsibility so he always turned her down.

'There we go, you're all done,' announced Sansa. Arya stood up, admiring the view as she stood beside her sister in the long mirror.

Sansa was wearing a floaty, peach-coloured dress with a fitted bodice meeting a brown belt at her waist, the skirt knee-length at the front and falling to her ankles at the back. On her feet, she wore dainty Mary-Janes and her hair was done up in an intricate plait. Beside her angelic form, Arya looked like something the cat had dragged in, but she was rather pleased with herself.

'You look amazing, Sansa,' she said, smiling at her sister.

'I wish you would wear a dress,' answered Sansa, sighing, but then she laughed at Arya's grimace.

…

Gendry was wearing a suit with a skinny tie- having decided bow ties were probably not his thing- and his hair just wouldn't lie flat. It looked like he had just woken up after a particularly heavy night, and no matter how much wax he used, it looked the same. The doorbell rang, and he gave up.

'Wow,' he breathed.

Arya was there, looking incredible, and smiling as she appraised his appearance.

'You look pretty wow yourself,' she grinned, and pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He broke away quickly and turned to the kitchen table. He picked up a square box, about the size of his palm, and passed it over to her.

'This is for you,' he said shyly.

Arya smiled at him and then opened the box. Inside was a necklace, a delicate silver chain with a leaf pendant on it.

'Oh, Gendry, this looks expensive,' she said, looking at him in a way that was supposed to make him feel guilty.

'It's nothing I can't afford,' he replied, a little proud of himself.

'I can't wear this though,' she said. Gendry's face fell a little, and she explained, 'Because I'm already wearing a necklace.'

She reached down her blouse and and pulled out the wolf necklace he had made for her.

He smiled. 'You could wear both?'

She nodded, and put the leaf necklace up to her throat, turning to let him fasten it. When it was done, he kissed her neck, and she sprang around to kiss his lips again. It wasn't a long kiss, because Arya broke away and said, 'My dad's waiting, we should go.'

But when she looked at him, she laughed. 'You have lipstick…' Her fingers rubbed his lips, and he blushed. They still were keeping their relationship a secret, especially from Ned, who was bound to overreact, and lipstick stains probably were a bit of a giveaway.

He locked up and they headed downstairs, Gendry putting his hand on her waist for a last bit of contact before they went outside.

It didn't take too long to get to the Baratheon mansion, the Red Keep, and the conversation wasn't too awkward. Ned spent most of the time half-seriously teasing Sansa about her boyfriend Joffrey, and was nice to Gendry, not seeming to suspect anything. Arya was even a little offended, because it seemed as if Ned and Sansa didn't think Arya could pull an older guy as hot as Gendry.

When they got there, they found that all four of them were on the Baratheon table. It was a large round table, with Arya stuck between Renly Baratheon and her dad, and Gendry the other side of Renly, looking very uncomfortable next to Robert's wife Cersei.

The conversation was stifled and cold, and Arya was glad when the meal was over and they could all split up to dance and socialise.

Gendry was awkwardly being introduced to everyone by Robert and Arya felt strangely left out. She watched him from across the room, sipping champagne. She knew he was probably a lot unhappier than her, seeing as he absolutely hated being the centre of attention, but she couldn't help wishing he was more incognito, her dirty little secret.

'Is he any good?' mumbled a voice in her ear. Arya jumped a mile, and turned to glare at Renly Baratheon, who was grinning wolfishly.

'What do you mean?' she said, coldly.

'My dear nephew, Gendry. Is he any good in bed?'

Arya blushed furiously but kept an even tone as she said, 'We're not a couple.'

'No, my dear,' said Renly with a wry look in his eyes, 'You just stand too close together and are constantly watching each other, even from across the room.'

'I'm not shagging Gendry,' she said in a dark voice- and it wasn't a lie.

'I wouldn't even suggest such a thing,' he said, blinking innocently. They glared at each other for a long minute, both determined not to be the first to look away.

'Arya!' called Robert Baratheon, interrupting their staring contest, 'Arya Underfoot!'

She looked over angrily, and thought about not going, until she saw the plea in Gendry's eyes and gave in. Renly took her arm and escorted her over, and she wondered if a movement could be sarcastic.

'Arya, we were just saying how like your aunt Lyanna you are,' said Robert when they got near. Gendry stepped close to her.

'So I'm told,' Arya said stiffly. She didn't remember her aunt very well, who had died of cancer when Jon was young, but her father and Jon were still very attached to her.

'But Lyanna was a hot-blooded creature. She always had a feller on the go,' he pronounced, making Arya blush, 'And you're not so forthcoming, are you, my girl.'

Her father came up next to Robert and looked vaguely displeased.

'I've had boyfriends,' she lied. In fact, she'd only ever had one.

'You've got a nun on your hands here, Ned,' said Robert, laughing and slapping his friend on the back.

Robert's relentless sexism was starting to grate on Arya's nerves.

'My boy here must be a great womaniser,' he proclaimed, throwing a weighty arm up over Gendry's broad shoulders, 'Look at the muscles on him.'

Gendry protested quietly, glancing at Arya with anger in his eyes.

'I bet you've had hundreds of women, haven't you, boy?' Robert bellowed.

The whole room could hear their conversation, and Arya just wanted to wrap her arms around Gendry's waist and hide her face in his chest.

'Not really, sir,' said Gendry when it became clear an answer was expected of him.

Robert laughed again, clearly not noticing that everyone around him was not in the least amused. 'He takes after his father, the ladies just can't resist us!'

Arya was ready to explode. She was having enough trouble keeping her eyes off Gendry, and she had spent too much time convincing him that he was nothing like his father to have to put up with this bullshit.

So she exploded. 'Here's the difference, though, Robert,' she spat, moving to stand beside Gendry, so close that their hips were touching, 'You're a shitbag. You treated Sally Waters like a whore and you couldn't keep my Aunt Lyanna because you didn't respect her- but, oh sod it, I love Gendry.'

Robert looked furious, and Gendry wrapped his arm around her waist, fingers clutching her hip protectively.

'You little bitch!' Robert Baratheon bellowed, 'How dare you speak to me like that?'

Robert stepped up to her, but Gendry pushed her behind him. 'You won't touch her,' he said, in a voice of quietly repressed fury.

They stared each other out for a long minute, and Arya swore she saw Loras Tyrell slip Renly a bank note, like he'd lost a bet.

'Come, Arya,' said Ned Stark in a rational voice, 'Let's leave.'

He broke between Robert and Gendry, taking his daughter's wrist and leading her to the door, Gendry following and Sansa running across the room to grab Arya's bag before following them out.

…

Gendry was blushing bright red, and had been for ten minutes.

He was sat in the back of Ned's car beside Sansa, looking at his lap. Whenever he looked up for a glance of the back of Arya's head, he caught Ned's eye in the rearview mirror, and it was so disdainful that he couldn't look at him.

The car was in an uncomfortable silence, heated with Arya's undiffused anger and Ned's consternation.

Finally, Sansa broke the silence. 'Could you put the radio on, Arya?'

'I can't believe your cheek, Arya Stark,' said Ned, ignoring Sansa and taking the opportunity of conversation to speak, 'Robert is an old friend of mine and he has been good to us, offering me a job. When we came down here, we had no friends but the Baratheons, and Robert made this place home for us.'

'Doesn't change the fact he's a sexist bastard,' his younger daughter muttered. Gendry tried to surpress a smile. He was secretly ridiculously proud of her for standing up to his father, and it… Well, it kind of turned him on to see her defending him.

'Robert has his faults, but you were rude,' pointed out her father.

'Someone needed to tell him,' she answered gravely.

'Anyway,' interrupted Sansa, sounding almost pleased, 'How long have you two been dating?'

'Just a couple of days,' Arya said shyly, not wanting them to make the connection between their relationship and Bran's accident, because it felt disrespectful.

'Arya, I must say I am disappointed in you,' said her father, and Gendry felt his heart sink. Of course the rich and powerful Ned Stark wouldn't want his beloved, bright daughter to be dating a bastard waiter, poor as dirt and with no future. 'I trusted you would not start looking at boys until you were a little older and your studies were out of the way.'

'That's not fair dad,' cut in Sansa, 'I started dating Joff when I was younger than her!'

'Well, the thing is-' Ned glanced at Gendry in the rearview mirror- 'No offence, Gendry, but you're a lot older than her. In fact, you're even older than Joffrey.'

'Gendry's three times the man bloody Joffrey is,' said Arya angrily.

'I'm sure he is, but…' said Ned, looking very uncomfortable, 'Can you two keep it… keep it PG for a few years?'

Arya let out a squeaky noise, halfway between a laugh and a gasp. Gendry turned bright red, and cleared his throat.

Thankfully, at that moment the car pulled up outside his apartment block and he got out quickly, thanking Ned for the lift in a stiff voice.

As he typed in the door code, he heard the crunching of shoes on the gravel driveway and turned to see Arya running towards him. She went straight into the lobby and dragged him around a corner to be out of sight from the car, and then threw her arms around his neck and kissed him furiously on the lips. It was a deep, vigorous kiss that went straight to his groin, but it was over quickly. She looked up at him, his hands still in her hair.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured.

'Arya…' he said, trying to remember how to speak, 'What for?'

'For getting so angry and embarrassing you in there.'

'Oh, Arya,' he laughed, smiling down at her, 'Don't be sorry, it was brilliant!'

She grinned, 'It was good to show him who's boss.'

'And at least we're not a secret anymore,' he said, 'I want to show you off to everyone!'

He kissed her quickly again, and sent her out the door with a wave to her father.

**A/N: Ok so now we're all happy couples, I'm putting the world to rights. Number one, Arya putting Robert Baratheon in his place. Also featuring more gratuitous sassy Renly because who doesn't love him?**

**Also, I've noticed I do a lot more Gendry POV than Arya, so I'm trying to even it out- to get both sides of the story!**


	15. Chapter 15

**The Starks are hosting a family dinner to welcome Bran home, and Arya's about ready to put another Baratheon in his place.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

…

'What time's Gendry coming?' asked Sansa, popping her head around the door to Arya's room.

'Five,' her sister replied, tapping away on her phone, 'Why?'

'Joff's coming about the same time, he could give him a lift,' she said, coming to sit beside Arya on the bed.

Arya raised an eyebrow at her lovely yet ridiculously naïve sister. 'Really?'

'Yes, why not?'

'Really, Sansa?' she asked sceptically. When she realised Sansa was being serious, she explained, 'Joffrey and Gendry don't really get along.'

'Oh,' said Sansa, blushing.

Arya rolled her eyes. 'You look nice, Sansa,' she said, and it was true. Sansa was in a pale pink playsuit that made her look young and pretty, offsetting the fiery red of her long, wavy hair.

'Thank you,' Sansa said sweetly, and looked her little sister up and down, 'You… you're still in your pyjamas.'

'Yeah,' replied Arya, 'So?'

'So it's quarter past four and your boyfriend gets here in less than an hour!'

'I suppose I should have a shower,' Arya sighed.

'Yeah probably!' said Sansa, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

When the doorbell rang, a fully-dressed (in smart jeans and a clingy, deep purple vest top) Arya ran to answer it. To her dismay, Joffrey stood on the porch.

'Oh,' she said, 'It's you.'

'That's no way to talk to your future brother-in-law,' Joffrey sneered, and Arya tasted vomit.

'Come in then,' she said, containing her anger with the thought that Gendry was coming soon.

In the kitchen, Sansa was sat with Jon and Robb, everyone else in the lounge. Sansa was keeping an eye on the dinner, but when Joffrey came in she met him with a wet kiss. Arya and her brothers glared at them both until Joffrey's hands reached Sansa's bottom, cueing Robb to loudly clear his throat, breaking them apart, Sansa blushing tomato red.

Arya was saved from awkward conversation by the doorbell, announcing Gendry. She embraced him when she opened the door, giving him a quick kiss before taking him through. He hugged Sansa and Jon, shook hands with Robb and nodded courteously at Joffrey, and then took the beer he was offered.

'How is he?' he asked, meaning Bran, whose return home was the cause for this dinner party. Arya could kiss him just for that. Joffrey hadn't been to the hospital once, nor asked after Bran when he arrived, but Gendry asked almost on arrival, and it made Arya want to point at him and shout, _YES! YES, HE'S MINE! _

'He's alright,' said Robb, 'He's in the lounge with Jeyne, Rickon, Mum and Dad.'

'Has he got a chair?' asked Gendry gently. '

Yeah,' Robb answered quietly, 'He's quite pleased with it, but I think it's just a brave face.'

Gendry looked down, smiling sadly.

Later, they all moved into the dining room, Arya sitting between Gendry and Jon, whose girlfriend Ygritte was on the other side, down from her home up North especially. Arya liked Ygritte, she was feisty and intelligent, although it made Arya blush when she heard Robb teasing Jon about how much sex they had.

Bran's wheelchair was placed at the head of the table and he was quite confidently joining in the conversation, though he looked a little paler than normal.

The evening was lovely, and everyone was kind and friendly- except for Joffrey. '

Well, in ten years or so, it'll all be forgotten,' the blonde boy said to Bran, putting on a sickeningly sweet fake smile.

'No it won't,' replied Bran coldly, 'I won't be able to walk.'

'Neither can Sansa when she's had a night with me,' said Joffrey, nudging Robb, who was sat next to him, and laughing. No one else laughed.

They ate in silence for a minute.

'Gendry, how's your work?' Joffrey asked.

'Fine,' replied Gendry.

'What is it you do, waiting tables?' his half-brother sneered.

'Yes,' Gendry said, stiffening.

'I suppose you can't expect any more from a bastard,' Joffrey sighed, his eyes slits of hatred as he glared at Gendry. Gendry heard Arya hiss beside him and put his hand firmly on her thigh, clenching his fingers to show her he wasn't hurt by Joffrey's comments.

'Please don't use that kind of language in front of my children,' said Catelyn tersely.

'Sorry, Cat,' Joffrey replied, not sounding sorry in the least, 'Just wanted to make it clear to Gendry, he's quite stupid, you see.'

Arya stood up, furious. Yes, she called him stupid, but she was allowed to!

But she didn't get chance to yell at Joffrey, because Sansa too had stood up. She was tearful and fiercely beautiful in her fury.

'Joffrey, I think you'd better leave,' she said, in a soft voice that trembled with anger. '

What?' her boyfriend said, laughing.

'Joffrey, you have insulted nearly every member of my family and I simply won't take it any more,' she said strongly, 'It's over, now get out.'

Joffrey stared at her blindly, but Robb stood and so did Jon, and the two of them crowded around Joffrey as they escorted him out of the house.

When the door slammed and her brothers sat back down, Arya grinned. 'Good work, Sansa,' she said, 'I do believe I'm rubbing off on you.'

Sansa looked at her with a worried face for a moment, and then her face split into an ear-to-ear beaming smile.

'Yeah, that felt pretty good,' she said, laughing.

Ned bit his lip, and then stood up, 'I think this calls for champagne.'

And from then on, the smile never left Bran's face.

**A/N: This chapter was just gratuitous Stark feels, but I make no apologies because I enjoyed it. I'm one of those rare people who loves Arya and Sansa equally, and it was way too much fun writing the two of them being sisterly and sorting Joffrey out!**

**Just a hint, the next chapter might make use of that M Warning…**


	16. Chapter 16

**Modern AU. Gendry gets a little surprise. M rated.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.**

…

It was nearly nine o'clock, and Gendry was shattered.

He had been working since lunch, and was almost done with his shift, but he felt like he was going to collapse.

He was a little disappointed too, if he was honest. Normally, when he worked in the evening, Arya was always there, sitting on her own with a drink, waiting for him to finish. After, they usually went out clubbing or for dinner, depending on how she felt. He felt a hollow space in his chest when he finished and she still wasn't there, not even sat on the bonnet of his car outside or leaning against the wall. He checked his phone. He had a voicemail, which was unusual.

On listening, his heart leapt at the sound of Arya's voice, bored-sounding and husky, but so, so sexy.

'Oh, hey Gendry,' she was saying, lightly and absently,

'Yeah, sorry I couldn't make it down tonight, Sansa's going out so I'm doing her hair and nails. See you later, bye.'

Gendry laughed softly at the following thirty seconds of Arya's muffled breathing and daft noises whilst she tried to hang up, and her distant voice saying 'oh come on' to the phone.

He knew it was stupid to feel disappointed, they had seen each other every day for the past fortnight, but he hungered for her company, there was no denying it.

He drove home, singing along to the radio badly and feeling sorry for himself, but when he let himself in, he knew instantly that something was wrong. The barstools were all over the place, and a dirty glass and plate were out on the worktop, along with a loaf of bread and some chocolate spread. Another pair of trainers lay alongside his, half the size of his and instantly recognisable as Arya's. That was strange, had she left them there the other day or what?

'Hello?' he called out, a little concerned. He flicked open the airing cupboard door and then the bathroom door, but there were no signs of life. Finally, he pressed his palm flat to his bedroom door and pushed it slowly.

'Hello, honey,' said Arya in that same husky voice she had used on the phone, sending bolts to his groin.

And then he saw her. She was lying on her side on his bedsheets, head supported by an elbow and knees curled round behind her, wearing nothing but a black lacy bra and tiny knickers.

She was wearing some dark black eye make-up and he had even curled her hair like a 1940s pin-up. Gendry gulped.

'Arya, what are you doing?' he asked nervously.

'Gendry, I want you to make love to me,' she answered, like she had been rehearsing that line for hours. He swallowed hard.

'Arya, how did you get into my flat?' he squeaked out, as she rolled onto her back, lean legs splaying out.

He couldn't stop his eyes from watching the graceful motion of her breasts, and he almost hated himself for it.

'I nicked your spare key the other day,' she explained, bringing her hands to her breasts and sighing. He laughed.

'You are trying so hard to seduce me, aren't you?' he said, coming to the bed and sitting on the edge. She moved to put her legs around his waist, clinging to his back like a teddy bear, and stroked his chest whilst he took his shoes off.

'Are you saying you don't want this?' she asked breathily into his ear, slipping a hand down to his crotch.

'Nope,' he gasped, 'I definitely want you.'

She smiled and giggled as he turned around, leaning over her and kissing her fiercely. He supported himself above her and pulled back slightly.

'Are you sure about this?' he asked gently, nudging her neck with his lips.

'Definitely,' she replied, stretching a hand out to the bedside table on her left.

When he saw what was in her hand, he groaned. 'I'd forgotten you found my stash.'

'That was so embarrassing,' she said, laughing, but he was pleased that she had thought far enough ahead to get a condom, and pleased that she had thought this through. She was the type to do rash things, and he didn't want their first time to be one of the things she regretted later.

She was stripping him now, and he helped her to wriggle him out of his shirt, and then his jeans. He even toed off his socks for her.

He trailed kisses down her neck, to plant a kiss between her breasts, sloppy and warm. He felt her shudder, and went lower, dragging her underwear down with his teeth, making her laugh.

'Oh, Mr Bond,' she said in a posh accent, and he raised an eyebrow, making her laugh more. 'He was the first sex symbol to come to mind!'

Smirking, he went back to work, moving his lips to her mound. His tongue prodded inside her, enjoying the soft, sweet taste of her. It wasn't often that he could describe Arya Stark as sweet, but lying on her back, fingers clutching at the sheets to stay grounded, with his tongue inside her, her traitor mouth letting out strangled squeaks of pleasure or surprise, she really was sweet.

She didn't spend just then, though, and Gendry moved back up to kiss her, the taste of her still on his lips. He drew her up a little and unhooked her bra, throwing it on the floor alongside his discarded boxers, and when he lowered her back down again, her breasts pressed against his chest, hardening him almost agonisingly.

'Is it time?' she asked, and he realised how young and virginal she was. She sounded a little worried, but as her clawing fingers helped him with the condom, there was a ferocity in her eyes, like she was desperate just to know what sex felt like- or, he flattered himself, to get closer to him.

He settled back over her and gave her a long, drawn-out kiss, one of his hands on her breast, kneading and stroking. He moved his tip to her mound and gently pushed into her, feeling her breath tickle his tongue as she gasped against his open lips. He pushed a little further, and then her hips bucked up to push the final gap between them away. She cried out as he broke her maidenhead, a tear rising to her eye. He pulled his lips away to ask her, 'Are you alright?'

She smiled weakly through her pain, and he gently wiped the tears with his thumb. As he cupped her face, she twisted quickly and bit his little finger fiercely. 'I'm great.'

She hooked her legs up around his hips and Gendry waited for her to get comfortable before he started to thrust into her, pulling straight back and settling into a rhythm that had them both panting. She raked at his back with her fingers, breathing his name like it was the most precious thing in the world, and finally she came, letting out a rough sigh and tightening around him to push him over the edge too.

After, Arya lay with her head on his chest, their legs tangled together with the sheets whilst their fingers explored every bit of each other.

'You're beautiful,' he said simply, as though he had just figured out the meaning of life.

'Never leave me, Gendry,' she replied in a tiny voice, 'Promise me you'll never leave.'

And in the half-lit, cosy world of his bed, with Arya all over him like they were two halves of the same whole, it was all too easy to make a promise.

**A/N: Well that was enjoyable, even though I'm atrocious at smut! Don't worry, there's one more twist to come before we're done with this particular story.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Modern AU. Gendry gets an offer he can't refuse.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.**

…

Arya stroked his lapel and hummed in approval.

'You look very dashing,' she said, and brushed her lips to his.

'I feel like my stomach's an ocean,' Gendry replied, wrapping her hands in his,

'Does your father keep a gun in his office?'

Arya laughed. 'He's not in the mafia, Gendry,' she said, smiling into his eyes.

'Why else would he post a black envelopr through my door inviting me to a meeting?' said Gendry, grinning, 'He obviously wants to initiate me into the mob.'

'Obviously,' she said with teasing sincerity, and kissed his cheek. 'On your bike, sunshine.'

Gendry pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, trying to absorb some of her strength, and then got into his car, waving goodbye as he drove off. He had made light of it, but he really was very nervous about meeting Ned Stark.

When the summons came in the post five days earlier, Gendry had had no idea what Ned Stark would want with him. To tell the truth, he still had no idea, though Arya said it might be a lecture or a job offer, but he had lain awake night after night since then, the suppositions getting worse and worse.

And now he was at Baratheon Enterprises, asking the receptionist where Mr Stark's office was, adding that he meant Ned, not Robb, and sitting stiffly in his suit on a futuristic sofa on the eighteenth floor. Gendry didn't think he'd ever been so high up in his life. He'd never been on a plane, at least.

The fogged glass door to his right opened, and a short, sneering man came out. Gendry stood abruptly and the man stuck out a hand for him to shake. 'Gendry Waters, I assume?' His handshake was limp and clammy. 'I'm Petyr Baelish, Mr Stark's associate. Come on in.'

Gendry followed him into a stylish and modern office, where Ned Stark sat behind a curved wooden desk, tidying files. He stood when he saw Gendry, and shook his hand across the desk. Gendry hoped he couldn't feel his hand jittering.

'Gendry, please sit down,' he said, going back behind his desk, 'Petyr, leave us.' Both of them did as they were told, and Ned shook his head.

'I mistrust that man.'

'Oh?' said Gendry, glancing back at the door Petyr Baelish had left through.

'He's been in love with my wife for thirty years, but Catelyn despises the man,' Ned explained, 'And he always calls himself my 'associate', when in truth he is my assistant.'

Gendry laughed at the sneaky smile on Arya's father's face, and for the first time he noticed the obvious similarities between them. Arya looked nothing like her mother, Catelyn was tall and auburn, but Arya was a little shadow of Ned Stark: dark, messy hair, stormy grey eyes, a little wildness behind their expression.

'Anyway, Gendry,' Ned continued, pushing his hair back off his forehead, as if it cleared his head, 'You must be wondering why I asked you here.'

'Yes, sir,' he said, 'Your invite took me a bit by surprise.'

Ned smiled, and said, 'The thing is, son, you're a waiter.'

Gendry tensed. 'What of it?'

'Nothing, son, it's no bad thing,' Ned protested, holding his palms up in surrender, 'I just wondered if you might be more interested in this.'

He slid a piece of paper across the table to Gendry, who eyed him suspiciously for a minute before he looked at the paper.

It was a letter addressed to Ned Stark, headed by Tobho Mott, of Baratheon Enterprises' Steelworks.

Gendry skipped over the first paragraph of pleasantries, and stopped when he saw his name in the third paragraph. He read it quickly, but stared at the page, dumbfounded, for a minute.

'An engineering apprenticeship? For me?' he said aloud, disbelieving.

Then he saw the salary.

'It's a good offer, Gendry,' Ned said, smiling kindly, 'You'd be wise to take it.'

'But sir, this place must be so difficult to get,' Gendry said, a little dismayed, 'Why would he choose me?'

Ned grinned, 'My recommendation is highly esteemed.'

Gendry shook his head, shaking off the shock. 'So I've definitely got it?'

'Tobho will want to interview you, but it's basically a shoe-in,' Ned told him.

Gendry sat, flabbergasted, for a minute, trying to take it in. The job he had always dreamed of, with enough money to buy a new apartment and maybe… maybe take Arya to South America. They couldn't just run away anymore, but a holiday would be nice, just the two of them?

'Thank you, sir,' Gendry said earnestly, 'Thank you so much.'

'It's no problem,' Ned answered, 'I… It's not just because of Arya, but… I wanted to help you, because Robert's not been around.'

Gendry smiled. Ned Stark was a much better man than his father.

…

Arya gasped when he told her.

'That… That's great, Gendry,' she said, throwing herself into his arms, but he wasn't fooled. He pushed her away, holding her by the shoulders.

'Arya, are you crying?' he said, though he knew she was, 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, nothing,' she said, swatting away his hand as he tried to dry her tears, 'I'm pleased for you.'

'No, Arya, really,' he said, 'If you don't want me to take the job, I won't.'

She shook her head, 'No, Gendry, I want you to take it. You deserve it.'

He half-smiled at her, and in a tiny voice, she said, 'I suppose I'd better apply to some unis then.'

Gendry didn't know what to say, so he just pulled her into his arms and hoped that he could hold her tightly enough to block out the world.

…

**A tiny bit filler, I'm sorry, but this fic is going places very shortly…**

**I also realised really late that Arya says 'On your bike, Sunshine,' which is such an English thing to say, so if you don't speak Brummie, it means 'you had better go'. Haha there you go.**


	18. Chapter 18

Gendry was surprised when Arya didn't show up after his shift, but he remembered the last time that had happened and he wasn't too bothered. He reached into his coat pocket to check his phone, but it wasn't there. An image hit him of the thing sat on his bedside table. _Stupid! _he reprimanded himself.

He drove home, flipping through the radio stations until he found a decent rock song. He was bored of waiting tables, and the past few days, there had been a restlessness growing in him that he felt only being with Arya would soothe.

Back at his apartment, there was no sign of her. He checked his phone, but there were no messages. He sat down at the breakfast bar and slumped his head in his hands. It wasn't like Arya to give him the silent treatment, but she had been acting strangely for the past couple of days. She wasn't happy about his apprenticeship- well, she was pleased for him, he didn't doubt that, but he had seen the fire die in her eyes when she realised they couldn't go to South America, and he knew she was unhappy.

He hadn't realised she'd taken the crazy dream so much to heart. It had always been his wild fantasy, something to while away the hours of boredom in his dull little life, but that had changed when Arya came into his life. He loved being around her, he loved the way every day felt like an adventure, he loved her wicked laughter and the way it softened when he kissed her. He loved her.

He looked up, towards the door, and spotted an envelope on the doormat that he had missed before. He picked it up, expecting bills, but the envelope wasn't sealed, and on the front it only said 'Gendry' in a scrawling, pencilled hand. He pulled out the piece of paper inside as fast as he could without ripping it. It was headed 'From the desk of Eddard Stark,' but unlined, and the paper bore the rough marks of rubbed out words and discarded sentences. He read it quickly.

_Gendry,_

_I'm sorry it had to be like this, but if you'd known, you'd never have let me go._

_Believe me when I say I'm proud of you. You really do deserve that job, and I know you'll go far. I didn't want to stop you, you see. It's your dream, and I didn't want to hold you back. But if you get to live your dream, then I get to live mine. It was ours, but you don't need to run away anymore. _

_I was always shy of saying it, but I love you. You'll always have a place in my heart. _

_So I suppose this is it. I have a plane to catch. Don't try to find me, South America's a big place._

_Forever yours, _

_Arya._

Gendry stared blankly at the page. She couldn't have just… Gone? Could she? He picked up his phone and replayed the message she had left him that night, her bored, husky voice tickling his ear as he heard it.

When it was over, he listened again, and again and again until her voice replaced all the thoughts in his head.

…

Arya came out of the airport at a brisk walk. She had managed to come this far by putting on a self-important face, pretending she flew to the other side of the world all the time. A woman a little older than her mother had met her eye on the plane and smiled kindly, but Arya refused to show any emotion. If she let one of them out, it would all come flooding out, and she would be crying in no time.

It had been months since she had spent a day without Gendry, and the flight was awful. When she fell asleep, she dreamt she was resting her head on his strong shoulder, but when she awoke, she shuffled away from the plain young man sat beside her awkwardly before he could wake up and find her there.

She missed Gendry already, his gentle smile, his broad laugh, his rough stubble scratching her face as he kissed her. But she couldn't think about him now, it would only hold her back.

She pulled on her sunglasses and hailed a taxi. The driver, a young Brazilian man with soft dark hair, so much like _his_, got out to put her suitcase in the boot for her, and then she got in the backseat.

'_Para onde você gostaria de ir_?' he asked in Portuguese. Arya looked at him nervously, biting her lip. All her Spanish was no use to her now, but Gendry knew she had been learning Spanish, so what better way to put him off her scent than by going to a Portuguese-speaking country?

'Sorry,' she called through the little glass window, 'Do you speak English?'

'A little, _Senhorita,_' he answered, smiling, 'Where you wanna go?'

'A hotel, or a… a pensão?' she said, trying to remember the tiny bit of research she had done on Rio before she came.

'Cheap hotel, no?' he said, and when she nodded, he laughed, 'I know a good hostel!' He set off, and manoeuvred out onto the main road before looking at Arya through the mirror.

'You live in England, no?' he said, cheerfully.

'Yes,' she answered.

'Is beautiful there,' he said, 'My sister live in England.'

Arya smiled. He seemed a nice man. She glanced at his taxi licence, and read his name as Paolo.

'It's more beautiful here,' she said, and then gasped as the sunset afforded her her first glimpse of Rio de Janeiro, the city teeming with buildings, and the great statue of Cristo Redentor guarding over the streets from above. It was colourful and bright, and as far from grey old England as she could imagine._Perfect,_ she thought.

The taxi driver parked up outside a tall, skinny building with Pensão Braavos painted on its wall. Paolo climbed out and helped her eith her suitcase, even taking it inside the hotel for her. He called 'Olá!' to the middle-aged, deeply tanned woman behind the counter and spoke to her in rapid Portuguese.

When he finished, the woman looked at Arya with kindly eyes. 'You want a room, _menina_?' she asked in heavily-accented English.

'_Por favor_,' Arya replied, and the lady laughed.

'Come, come,' she said, and when Arya protested that she hadn't paid her taxi fare, Paolo smiled and waved his hands at her.

'Is good, _Senhorita_,' he said, 'Welcome to Rio!'

Arya went to bed immediately and slept a fitful sleep, wishing she could be happy in this vibrant, welcoming city, but really feeling very alone.

**A/N: Many thanks to Pri (Miladybaratheon on tumblr) for the Portuguese translations, and suggesting Brazil in the first place! Thank you for all your lovely reviews everyone, and Hope-W, well, you got what you wanted! ;)**


	19. Chapter 19

**THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER.**

**Arya is in Brazil, and Gendry is the Starks' only hope of finding her.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Except Luiza. She's my baby.**

**...**

The call came at midnight, and he was asleep on the sofa, the lights still on. When he sat up to reach his phone, something twinged in his back and he groaned at the pain, but the sound just reminded him of that perfect night when she had squeezed noises like that- and some louder, more strained- out of him. He rubbed a hand over his face as he answered the call.

'Gendry?' said a voice he recognised over the line, harsh and panicked, and through his hazy mind Gendry knew that voice was much higher than normal, 'Is she with you?'

'What?' he said, and then the pieces clicked. The voice on the phone was Jon, and Arya was... gone. 'No, she's not.'

'Then where the fuck is she?' Jon practically yelled down the phone. Gendry winced and moved the phone a little way away from his ear.

'She... She left me a letter,' Gendry said gingerly.

'What?' Jon shouted, 'What did it say?'

'She... She said she was going to South America,' he said.

'South America?' Jon echoed, shocked,

'What? Why?' 'It...' Gendry didn't really want to confess his old, crazy dream to Jon, and he was sure the Starks would blame him for putting the idea in her head, but they couldn't make him feel any worse than he already did. 'It was our little pipe dream.'

'South America?' Jon echoed, angrily, 'Are you mental? You should have known she was crazy enough to just run away like this, why would you put ideas into her head?'

'I...' Gendry didn't know what to say. It was his fault, yes, but he couldn't help but feel that Arya was Arya and she did what she liked, regardless of everyone else.

'Look, get your arse round to Winterfell and bring your sodding letter,' Jon said, and Gendry heard angry voices in the background.

'No, Jon, I'd just get in the way-'

'Shut up, Gendry,' Jon cut him off, 'You're basically family now anyway.

And why did being included in Arya's family make him so happy?

...

By the time Gendry arrived, Catelyn and Sansa had searched Arya's room top to bottom. She had, apparently, taken all her summery clothes and all her favourite winter clothes, and nearly everything else. Sansa mentioned quietly that she had taken the double picture frame from beside her bed, half of it Arya and her siblings and the other picture her and Gendry. He remembered the picture, from the night of Arya's birthday party, her grinning at the camera and him way too close to her (considering they hadn't been dating at that point) and staring at the side of her face with blind adoration in his eyes. It had been embarrassing when he first saw the picture, but Arya loved it, and he loved whatever Arya loved.

Ned, Jon and Robb discussed plans of action for a few hours whilst everyone else sat silent, but really they had nothing to discuss. All they knew was that Arya was in South America and she wasn't planning on coming back any time soon, and South America was a big place.

The Starks were all worried about her, but Gendry felt certain she could look after herself. She was bright and strong, and she was no little child. He resented himself though. It was his fault she had gone- not for coming up with the idea but for taking this job, suggesting she go to uni. She had never wanted to go to university, had come to see him as the person who understood that she couldn't conform to her family's expectations of her, and he had let her down by shattering her dreams, expecting her to drop her dreams for him. He wondered if she was being selfish, if he would do the same in her position, but he knew straight away that he would give up everything for her in a heartbeat. And he still could. When he thought about his dreams, she was in all of them.

Maybe it was a bit presumptious, they were still young and hadn't been dating long, but he knew he wanted to love her for the rest of his life. He just _knew_.

And then Sansa, who was sat next to him, got a text. She picked her phone up, no one really paying attention but Gendry, because he couldn't listen to Robb and Jon any longer, and concentrating on Sansa helped him to drown them out. She typed in her password, and then gasped loudly.

'Sansa? What is it?' asked her mother.

Gendry looked over her shoulder at the phone. It was a photo message, and Sansa had a big touchscreen phone which showed the picture big and clear. The background was a narrow street with a restaurant on it called Giovanni's, and from the arty angle of the photo, you could see above the street to a huge hill... with a statue on it. He knew it at once, everyone knew it, as Christ the Redeemer, in Rio de Janeiro. In the foreground, Arya was stood, facing to the side, not looking at the camera, a distracted look on her face.

'I have to go,' Gendry said immediately, whilst the phone was passed around so everyone could see.

'To Brazil?' asked Ned, incredulously.

'I'm coming too,' said Jon, the moment he saw the picture.

'You can't,' said Ygritte from the corner, 'You have to work, remember, Jon?'

'So does Gendry,' Ned Stark said pointedly. Gendry stood.

'I'm sorry, sir,' he said, 'But I can't take the job. That's what started all this.'

'How?' asked Catelyn, gripping Ned's arm for support.

'Arya didn't want to go to university,' he explained, 'But my job meant we'd have to stay here, and when I told her, the spark went out of her eyes, I swear it.'

'You were planning on running away then?' cut in Robb bitterly.

'We weren't going to run away,' Gendry sighed, 'We were going to move properly, with visas and a leaving party and everything. She couldn't truly leave her family.'

'He's right,' agreed Sansa, 'She ran away, but sent the picture to tell us where she was.'

'And now, if you'll excuse me,' Gendry said, impressed by how powerful his voice sounded in the marble-echo of the silent room, 'I need to book a flight.'

'Wait,' Sansa cut in, 'Come up to the study, I'll help you.'

...

He landed two days later. He had hardly slept the past two days, kept awake by nagging fears and new ideas. Sansa had helped immensely, and Ned Stark had paid for Gendry's flight without a word, though he knew that the older man was disappointed he wasn't taking the apprenticeship. He and Sansa had looked up Giovanni's restaurant, and found that there were two of the name in Rio. Gendry took down both addresses and a print out of the photo, and his plan was simply to search the surrounding area of the correct one until he found her. It was a stupid, risky plan, but it was so much like something Arya would do that it had to work. He got a taxi outside the airport and, referring to his Portugese phrasebook, asked the driver to take him to the first address.

It was the street from the photograph, there was no doubt about it, and he smiled straight away, even though there was no sign of her. Just being in the place where she had been made him happy. He was getting closer, and that was enough.

He looked around, not really sure where to go from here. His best shot was to find a hotel- she had to be staying somewhere, and also he needed somewhere to stay. Although Gendry travelled light, his suitcase was hindering his progress through the bustling streets, and he really needed to brush his teeth after the long flight. His mouth tasted vile.

There was a little hostel down the road, more like a house than a hotel, and he went into the lobby. First things first, he'd find himself a room. He got out his phrasebook.

'_Olá, preciso de um quarto,_' he said, and somehow he managed to make his way through a conversation and find a room.

He unpacked and showered, and then went down to a bar across the road. He ordered a beer and sat to drink it, getting out his phone to text Sansa to update her.

A girl sidled up to him, dark and beautiful with long, black ringlets. She was wearing essentially a bikini with a strappy dress over it, and she said something in a honey-rich Portuguese voice.

'Sorry,' he said, 'I'm English.'

'English?' she said, smiling, her deep eyes sparkling. She wrapped her long fingers around his bicep and tugged. 'My friend is English, come, come!'

Gendry just had time to pick up his beer before she led him over to a table in the corner. He sat on a tiny stool, and the girl curled herself over his shoulder.

'Ey, Ariana, this guy English too!' she said, and one of the girls opposite him, who had been turned away, in conversation with the girl beside her, twisted to face him. She'd chopped her hair shorter and she was wearing a flowery dress that was a little too big for her, showing her breasts and the top of her bra, but he would have known her anywhere.

'Hi,' he said, but her stormy grey eyes showed no recognition.

'Hi,' she replied, cold as the Winter in her face.

**...**

**A/N: The Stark family scene made me ridiculously happy. Writing about Brazil makes me super happy.**

**Thank you very much to Pri (Miladybaratheon on tumblr) for the Portuguese translation!**


	20. Chapter 20

**The final chapter is upon us! This is basically an epilogue, so happy feels! **

**I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who has read or liked or reviewed this fic, and I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have!**

**As usual, M Rated and I don't own these characters.**

...

The Brazilian girl, Luiza, talked to him for an hour or so, and when she was suitably drunk she got up and danced. Gendry didn't fancy it, so he stayed sat down. One by one, the girls all got up, until it was just him and Arya left at the table.

'Ariana?' he said, making her look up at him, 'Not very imaginative, is it?'

'I didn't come up with it,' she said, 'Luiza heard me wrong.'

He had nothing to say to that, but he shuffled around to sit close beside her.

'Why did you run?' he murmured into her ear, 'You could have told me and I would have come too, in a heartbeat.'

'You were going to get a good job, and I couldn't stay there,' she said, but she didn't flinch when Gendry wrapped his arm around her waist.

'Arya, I don't care about the job...' he said, 'I love you.'

Her resolve broke, and she turned to face him, and pressed her lips to his forcefully.

'Don't take me home,' she said, when she broke away, sounding desperate, 'I know they must have sent you, but don't take me home, please.'

Gendry stayed close to her, his arms tight around her.

'We could make home here,' he suggested, 'Just like we wanted.'

'You'd do that for me?' she asked, 'I don't want you to give up your dreams for mine.'

'You are my dream,' he replied, 'And don't go claiming Brazil as your idea, now!'

She laughed, pure joy in her eyes, and kissed him again.

...

**One year later**

Arya lay on the beach, soaking up the sun beside Luiza. She had lost most of her paleness since she came to Brazil, but she knew she would never be as gloriously bronzed as her Brazilian friends. She sat up to put some more suncream on, and looked out at the sea. It was a rich, perfect blue, like Gendry's eyes, a colour she had never really seen in England. All the colours were brighter here. It was everything she had dreamed of.

She glanced at her phone and looked at the time. It was ten to seven, so she pulled on her shirt and shorts and nudged Luiza to tell her she was going.

'_Tchau_!' Luiza said, kissing Arya's cheek before she left.

She arrived at the garage twenty minutes later, and sat down on a stool near his legs. She would have recognised his legs anywhere, but it helped that he was singing along badly to the radio from underneath the car whilst he fiddled with its undercarriage.

Another man was stood on the other side of the car, talking to Felipe, the garage owner, in rapid Portuguese that she just about understood. Felipe smiled when he saw Arya.

'Gendry!' he said, and Gendry pulled himself out from under the car, leaning up when he saw her, his golden abs dusted in dirt and car oil. Arya smiled, still- after all this time- pleased that he was so beautiful and entirely _hers_.

'_Que garota bonita, é sua namorada?_' the other man said, sounding slightly wowed.

Gendry smiled slyly at her, and pulled her in for a quick kiss. 'I thought you weren't coming,' he murmured in her ear.

'I'm only a little bit late, Stupid,' she replied, 'Not like that time you got lost-'

'I'm the stupid one?' he cut her off, laughing, 'You sent me a picture with Cristo Redentor right there in the background!'

Would she ever live that down? 'Maybe I wanted you to find me,' she whispered, nibbling his ear.

Gendry grabbed his shirt from the side table and put his wallet and phone in his jeans pockets.

He waved at Felipe as he left. '_Vejo você amanhã! Tchau!'_

Arya hailed a taxi, and they got in, heading to the airport. They only had to wait a few minutes at the arrivals barrier before the dark-haired man came around the corner, almost running, followed by a red-haired girl who was definitely running.

'Arya!' Jon yelled, bowling over to embrace her, nearly suffocating her when Sansa jumped on top of them too.

When they were finished hugging, Gendry put their suitcases on a trolley, and wheeled it out of the airport.

Arya dropped back whilst Jon looked for a taxi, and laced her fingers around Gendry's waist.

'I love them,' she said, softly, 'But I'm glad we came here.'

'Me too,' he answered, remembering the angry girl who had fought him in the gym all that time ago. She was a woman now, he thought, and he loved her.

**A/N: Thank you to Miladybaratheon for the Portuguese translation. It just gives it a bit of realism, I think, but if you wanted to know, the phrases meant 'What a pretty girl, is she your girlfriend?' and 'See you tomorrow, bye!' HMIYD over and out. **


End file.
